I Will Follow You
by DeadlyKittenKay
Summary: Once upon a time Dean Winchester was in love. After tragedy struck, he refused to love anyone other than family. Castiel was an Angel of the Lord with one mission, to raise the Righteous Man from Hell. Will they remember their past and their bond? AU - Dean/Cas (some Canon story, some not) beta by LinsAdair
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

For as long as Castiel could remember, he had loved Dean Winchester. At one time that love was reciprocated by Dean, only that love was while Castiel was in his human vessel as a female.

Their story started back in 1989, seven years after the horrific death of his mother in his baby brother, Sam's, room; both boys found themselves moving from city to city as their father did odd jobs. Often times, Dean felt as if he was the parent in the family, making sure Sammy was cared for and doing well in school, while cleaning up his father after many drunken nights.

At just ten years old, the boy had so much sorrow and loneliness screaming from his soul that the heavens sent their best angel to watch over him.

Castiel, Angel of the Lord, was one of His top angels. While he was not what you would consider an Archangel like that of his brothers, Michael or Gabriel, he was often revered as one in the eyes of many in Heaven.

The first day that Castiel was welcomed into a vessel, he was surprised to be met with the bright blue eyes of his reflection with dark hair that hung past his shoulders. He was a juvenile... a female. _An interesting choice_ , he thought for his first assignment.

His assignment was to befriend the elder Winchester for the time being. He would not be alone in this task as friend from the Garrison, Anna, and his brother Gabriel have also been welcomed into vessels to assist Castiel, should he need it.

"Cassandra, dear," a feminine voice called from down stairs. "You'll be late for the bus!"

Castiel took another glimpse at his vessel's reflection before a quick nod. "Yes, Mother," he called out, the squeak of his vessel's voice startling him.

Befriending Dean was a bit more complicated than even Castiel has anticipated. He had studied how other angels interacted with the humans in hopes that he could do it just as easily.Instead he seemed awkward and Dean ignored him most of the time. The younger brother, though, related to the little girl that was too formal in conversation for her age.

"Dean likes cars," the six year old said with puppy dog eyes before offering his carrots to the strange girl with the light eyes.

Castiel gave an awkward smile before taking the orange spear from the young boy. "Your information is appreciated."

"You're weird, even for a girl," Sam mused.

After that encounter Castiel spent more time at the lunch breaks with Sam, learning what he could about Dean. This didn't go unnoticed by the protective big brother. Normally, Dean would interrupt and ask what was going on, but he was happy to see Sammy laugh with someone and make a friend. It seemed so normal. Something neither Winchester boy was used too.

While their "Foster Father" Bobby would play off that he wasn't worried, he knew that every time Sam mentioned the klutzy girl, there was that same sense of relief that would lift a weight off both their shoulders.

"You would like her," Sam said to Dean one night at dinner.

Dean nearly choked on the Coke he was drinking to glare at his little brother. "I'm not interested in girls or friends, Sammy." Bobby laughed and shook his head at the boys exchange.

Castiel tried, unsuccessfully, for a year to get Dean to warm up to him. Both Anna and Gabriel tried to encourage him in their own ways, but he was beginning to feel as though he was failing his mission.

That is until his vessel's twelfth birthday, or at least that's what Castiel had gathered based on the reactions of her parents that morning. Celebrating with chocolate chip pancakes and a recounting of her birth.

He was glad that Cassandra's mother was letting her shy away from the dresses and skirts. While in Heaven, Castiel wasn't necessarily assigned a gender, he knew he would identify better as a male. At least he found it much more comfortable in the jeans.

"Kansas... cool," a voice in front of Castiel said. He looked up to see two pairs of eyes staring at him. Big green, puppy dog like eyes of Sam Winchester and the jade green intensity of Dean's. Castiel couldn't respond to young Dean as he was a loss for words as he stared into his eyes. It wasn't until Sam spoke up that he was broken from his trance.

"Happy birthday, Cassandra!" he said joyfully as he handed over a box wrapped in the previous Sunday's funny page. The present was the newest book from the Fear Street collection by R.L. Stine. Sam was an avid reader and to have him share a passion of his with Castiel warmed his heart.

"Thank you, Sam," Castiel replied, taking the gift and offering him a sincere smile.

"Had I known you liked classic rock, I would have made you a mixtape or something," Dean said sheepishly. Castiel gave him a confused look, not understanding the reference. Dean pointed to Castiel's chest, causing him to look down at the shirt he was wearing.

"Oh!" he laughed, the sound still so foreign to him. "My parental unit gave it to me."

Dean nodded. "Well, Happy birthday, Cas."

Shortly after that exchange, Dean had been making more of an effort to be conversational with Castiel. The more they were around each other, the more Dean opened up. Soon Castiel knew that up until they moved in with Bobby Singer, his brother and he rarely made friends, as the pain of saying goodbye was becoming harder with each one.

Dean also revealed that he thinks his dad might be involved into some weird things.

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked as he placed the pickles from his burger on Dean's plate. Dean loved them which worked out for Castiel as he didn't care for their flavor.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, Cas. Like he told me this one time when we were in Georgia that I had to put salt -" he picked up the salt shaker from the table between them - "on the window sills and door."

"Did he say why?" he asked. Castiel knew that John Winchester, Dean and Sam's father, was what was called a Hunter. He would hunt for various monsters and demons. The salt, was generally an indication of ghosts or spirits, but Castiel was unsure of how much Dean truly knew about his family's importance in the battle of good versus evil.

Dean took a pickle in his mouth and shook his head but Castiel could see in his eyes that he was lying. "Nah, just figured the son of a bitch was drunk again."

By the time Dean and Castiel's vessel were sixteen, their relationship was one of an inseparable nature. Castiel was spending so much time at Bobby Singer's house just to be with Dean that Cassandra's parents demanded to meet with Dean's father.

That dinner was awkward as John Winchester finally did make an appearance. Sitting at the table with Sam, Bobby, Steve and Cathy - the vessel's parental units, John and Dean. Castiel honestly didn't know what to expect.

"You know, I don't approve of Dean dating as much as you clearly dislike Cassandra doing it," John had said at one point during the dinner. Castiel looked over at Dean and noticed that the tips of his ears had turned bright red. This was something that he had learned Dean does when embarrassed. "They're kids," John continued. "And honestly I think having the boys here with Bobby was the biggest mistake I'd ever made."

"Not now, John." Bobby said in a clipped tone, fed up with his friend's inability to be a father when the boys needed it the most.

"I never said I disapproved. Your son is nothing but a gentleman to our Cassie. And honestly the way she lights up at just the mention of his name or the sound of his voice, who are we to deny young love?" Steve countered.

 _Young love_? Castiel couldn't believe what he was hearing. He tried to use his grace to tap into Dean's soul, something he didn't do often as he felt it was just as intrusive as reading someone's journal. He expected to feel the embarrassment radiating off of Dean, as he felt it too. He also felt the familiar sadness and loneliness that brought him to his mission. This time, there was a different longing in the mix. A longing that Castiel had never experienced before. Castiel looked at Dean, who was looking right at him.

"We are their parents! As such, I know that my boys will not have that. They will _not_ succumb to love. They have a duty to do. It's the family business!" John shouted, slamming his fist on the table to emphasize his point.

"I'm so sorry, Cas," Dean whispered to Castiel. Without thinking Castiel placed his hand onto Dean's face, cupping his cheek into his hand a wiping the stray tears from under Dean's dark lashes.

This motion and watching Dean react this way to his father's outrage caused a new emotion within the Angel. Since becoming friends with Dean, he had been able to identify happiness, sorrow, anger and worry. This one was new, as slightly painful yet invigorating. Like his heart was being twisted at the same time his stomach was alive with fluttering.

 _Love?_ Castiel wondered as the word floated around in his head.

Later that night while relaying that day's events to Anna and Gabriel, his suspicion was confirmed by Gabriel, the last person he expected.

"Oh man!" Gabriel laughed. "That's just screwed up. You're like what? A millennia old and in love with a sixteen year old?" His laughter was becoming most obnoxious.

"Castiel, I believe the feeling you received from Dean was either hurt or perhaps his own affection for you," Anna explained.

"You mean, my vessel. He's falling for the sixteen year old female with braces and dark hair."

"And perky breasts," Gabriel adds.

Castiel rolls his eyes at his older brother's antics. Anna nods in agreement to Castiel's statement. "This is true, he is falling for your vessel, but _you_ are still giving her life. This is a dangerous line you are toeing, Castiel. Your mission is to help his soul, we can't have Lucifer hear him."

Castiel sighs and nods. He's well aware of his mission, he just doesn't know how to approach this human emotion in particular. "I will remember my task," he responds simply.

Try as he might, Castiel was powerless against the emotions that were building in young Dean, and he knew that he was feeling similar emotions if the readings he was getting from Dean were any indication. Castiel wanted to tell Dean the truth, that he was an angel of the Lord but he knew he couldn't reveal himself.

Castiel found himself being more like a young kid in love than a warrior. He even got excited to show Dean his new, metal free smile, once his vessel had the torture devices removed from her teeth just after her seventeenth birthday.

He had gone to Bobby's house, where he was informed that Dean was back in the yard, working on his last Christmas present from his father. The yard was actually the junk yard behind Bobby's garage that he would use to scavenge parts for any vehicles that needed work on by the locals.

Castiel found Dean bent over the front of a car, singing along to a classic rock song as he worked on something under the hood. Castiel felt that familiar feeling of his heart pounding against his chest as if it were trying to break out of his rib cage and the fluttering in his stomach and dizziness as he looked at Dean's rear end. Lately Castiel had been getting these feeling from the silliest things. It could be Dean's smile, his laugh, a gentle touch of his skin on Castiel's, or even the way Dean would say _Cas_.

Castiel cleared his throat as he approached. Having witnessed what happened one unfortunate time Sam had honked a horn of the truck Dean was helping with a truck and struck his head on the hood as he jumped up in surprise. Castiel didn't like to see Dean in pain, physically or emotionally.

Dean looked over his shoulder. "Hey ya, Cas," he said with a smile. "Wanna hand me the five-eights socket wrench?"

Castiel grabbed the tool he asked for and moved closer to Dean. "Here, Dean."

"Thanks," he winked at him and fitted the tool where it was needed. "Why weren't you in school today?" he asked with a grunt.

"Dentist," Castiel said simply.

"Come on you stubborn son of a bi-" Dean grumbled then laughed as the bolt he was working on loosened. Once he completed that task he straightened up and grabbed the rag out of his back pocket, looking Castiel over. "Did they have to tighten again?" Dean asked, concern flooding his eyes.

Castiel flinched at the memory of the last tightening. While he didn't necessarily feel the pain, he did feel the pressure and uncomfortableness. "No." Suddenly his excitement to show off the new look was dwarfed by what he had learned to be nerves.

Dean moved closer to him, the scent of sweat mixed with his shampoo and car grime flooded Castiel's senses. Castiel watched as Dean's tongue darted out, moistening his lips. His green eyes moving along Castiel's face.

Castiel couldn't help but smile when the corner of Dean's mouth lifted into a crooked smile, a dimple forming in his cheek.

"Oh shit," Dean swore, his smile getting bigger. "They're gone."

Castiel felt the heat on his vessel's cheeks, a familiar feeling whenever Dean noticed something as simple as this. "Yeah, still getting used to the smooth feeling."

Dean's eyes jumped from Castiel's eyes to his lips and back. "I bet." Castiel sucked in a breath as Dean moved closer, his breath fanning over his face. "I'm sorry," Dean said softly.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, not understanding why he would be apologizing for his braces being removed.

"This," Dean breathed before placing his lips against Castiel's. Castiel closed his eyes, the feel of Dean's full lips against his vessel, ignited him. He knew what was happening. He was experiencing the first kiss. Something that he had seen in films and read about, but to be a part of it, this was something he knew he couldn't tell the others about. It was a much better feeling than puberty, that's for sure.

Dean pulled away slightly and asked, "Is this okay?" Castiel could only nod, afraid his voice wouldn't work. "Do you trust me?" Dean asked him.

Now Castiel opens his eyes and looks into Dean's. He can see the sincerity there and feel his intentions. "I love you, Dean." Castiel says before he knows what he is doing. A moment of panic floods him but is quickly extinguished at Dean's smile.

"Thank God, you said that first," Dean laughed as he cupped Castiel's face in his hands. "I love you too, Cas."

"Cassie..." the knock on the door made Castiel jump. Cathy, who was in the process of doing his hair, laughed. "Dean's here."

Castiel's blue eye's met the gray of Cathy's in the mirror.

"Give him a drink, Steve," Cathy answered. "We're almost done." She gave Castiel a soft squeeze on his shoulder. "Actually we're done, but I made your father wait for twenty minutes before our prom," she teased.

"Why?" Castiel asked. "Were you afraid to go?"

Cathy shook her head as she collected the various grooming items. "Oh no, I just wanted him to squirm with your grandpa," she laughed at the memory. "He was convinced that my father hated him. Dad played along with it, of course."

"Of course," Castiel agreed. His vessel's grandfather reminded him a lot of Gabriel. Always up for a good trick or joke.

"So, Dean," Steve started, clapping the nervous teen on the shoulder. "You want a drink?"

"Uh... No, sir," Dean responded, holding the blue orchid for Castiel in one hand as he rubbed the other against the fabric covering his leg.

"Well, knowing Cathy, she's telling Cassie all about when I took her to our prom." Steven laughed, grabbing the camera from the mantel and checking for film.

"Oh," Dean said lamely.

"Steven, don't bore the poor boy," Cathy teased as she entered the room. "Oh, Dean," she breathed, reaching out for a hug. "You look handsome, dear."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Cathy stepped back with a watery smile. She couldn't believe that the young man in front of her was the same gangly kid that kept a protective eye over Sam and Cassandra.

"Will you be stopping at Bobby's on the way? I'm sure he'd love a picture as well."

"I honestly don't think Bobby owns a camera," Dean laughed but stopped short at the sound of Cassandra's laugh behind him. He spun on his heels where he was greeted with the wide, beautiful smile of his best friend.

"Cas...You… W-wow," he stuttered as he took in the full look. He can recall Cas wearing dresses when they were younger but she suddenly started being more tomboy-ish. To see her cleaned up and in formal wear was a very pleasant surprise.

"That's teen boy for, 'you look beautiful'," Steve clarified.

Castiel laughed. "Thanks, Dad. You look dashing as well, Dean." Dean gave him that crooked smile that made Castiel's insides dance.

"Oh, I got this for you," Dean said in a rush as if he forgot something important. "I know traditionally you get one to match the dress but the blue reminded me of your eyes."

Castiel smiled. "I don't think a black flower would have sufficed anyhow."

Dean laughed shaking his head as he placed the corsage onto Castiel's wrist. "Weirdo," he teased softly.

About halfway through the dance, Dean and Castiel took a drive out to an open field where they lay on the hood of Dean's 1967 Chevy Impala. It was the first ride Castiel had in it since Dean had refinished it. It took him nearly three years to complete, but Castiel was impressed with the outcome.

Dean shrugged out of his suit blazer and wrapped it around Castiel's shoulders. "Did you have fun tonight, Cas?" he asked as he brushed a stray curl behind his ear.

"I did," Castiel responded with a shy smile. Dean wrapped his arm around his shoulder pulling him close to him.

"Dean. I need to ask you something."

"Of course, Cas."

"Do you think it's possible to love someone on more than a physical level?"

Dean pulled away slightly to look at Castiel. "Come again?"

Castiel sighed, trying to figure out how best to approach this subject. "Like souls. Do you believe that your soul will find it's mate?"

Dean chuckled softly as he pulled them to lay back and look at the sky above. "Are you asking about soul mates? Have you been talking to Sammy again?" he teased.

"No. Y-yes… maybe?"

That made Dean laugh louder. "Think then speak, Cas."

"Would you love me if our souls were separated and found each other on a different plane?"

"Still not following, Cas."

Castiel let out a huff of air, frustrated. "Do you believe in God?" He knew the answer but he had to start it this way.

"You know this, Cas." Frustration starting to seep into Dean's tone. "I don't."

Castiel rolled on this his side to look at Dean. "What happens to your soul when you die, then?"

"Seriously, Cas? What's this all about?"

Castiel pulled himself from Dean's embrace, sitting up to look at him. "I need to know, Dean." Guilt, a new emotion for Castiel, crept up inside him. He didn't want to hurt Dean but he knew the more he loved him, the more it would hurt when he went back to heaven and the vessel ignores Dean.

"Are you trying to breakup with me?" Hurt flashed in Dean's eyes.

"No."

"Then what, Cas? What do you want me to say?"

"I'm sorry," Castiel said softly, looking down at his hands folded in his lap.

"Cas, I don't understand your thoughts right now." Castiel closed his eyes, tapping into Dean's soul. He could still detect love the strongest but it was starting to be muted by the confusion and hurt. "Hey… Babe, don't cry." Dean said softly as he brushed the warm liquid off Castiel's face with his thumbs.

"I ruined your night, Dean. I'm truly sorry."

"Cas, look at me." Castiel obeyed. "You're family. We need you. _I_ need you. I would move heaven and hell to find you. Please don't doubt our love." Dean gave Castiel a soft kiss. "We may be kids but I have no doubt that if we lost each other, we'd find our way back."

The emotion Castiel was feeling within himself and through Dean was overpowering. He attacked Dean with his lips, the first time in the year they had been courting that he was so bold with his affection. Dean meet his kiss in kind, the fear of losing Cas overtaking him as he pulled Cas into his lap.

They had steamy make outs before, but this was a desperate need to show one another how they felt. How their worlds would be incomplete without the other.

Castiel's vessel was drowning in a need he couldn't identify. A yearning he had never felt before. A hunger that deepened with each grind on Dean's hips against his own.

"Cas," Dean growled, pulling his mouth from his. "As much as I want to go further-"

"We can't," Castiel finished.

They both agreed to head back home since Castiel had a curfew and Dean wanted to be a gentleman.

Castiel isn't sure what made Dean miss seeing the truck that swerved into their lane. He only remembers the sound of the tires squealing, metal crunching and glass shattering. The trucker came out apologizing and asking if everyone was okay.

Castiel affirmed that he was, but couldn't get a response from Dean. He waited for the trucker to go back to radio for help before he assessed the damage on Dean. He got the worst of the accident, his breathing shallow and non responsive.

"God, no," Castiel breathed. "Please no…" Tears were streaming down his face. Had he had his full grace he could heal Dean but that wasn't possible. "You will live, Dean. And you will love again," Castiel said before placing a kiss on Dean's lips. He then looked up at the Heavens. "Father, please. I failed him. Please don't take him from Sam. Give him a chance to live!" The sobs coming harder from Castiel's chest. "Please, Father! Take me back. SAVE HIM!"

Castiel felt his prayers being answered. His body hummed, pain washing over him as he started to cough up blood.

"Cas?" Dean finally asked weakly, his eyes slowly registering on Castiel. "Cas?!"

Dean looked over at Cassandra, blood making the dark dress darker as it spilled from her lips. There was so much that he didn't know where it was coming from. "Cas, please hang on." Dean tried to move to her but pain seared his side as he moved.

"Help's on the way," a stranger yelled from outside.

"Dean…" Castiel whispered bring his attention back to him.

"Cas, baby, please. You're gonna be okay." He cried. Castiel shook his head.

"I'm dying…" he reached up to Dean's face. "I love you."

"Damnit, Cas!" Dean shouted. "Don't give up!"

"I love you," Castiel repeated.

Dean gasped aloud as Cassandra's body convulsed, her blue eyes glowing as a bright light surrounding her. "I love you," Dean cried holding her hand. He watched a bright light leave her body before she went limp just as the sirens started to be heard.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The eight years since that night had not been the easiest for Dean. He closed himself off from both Sammy and Bobby, prone to angry outbursts and challenging authority. Shortly after the burial of his childhood sweetheart and much to Bobby Singer's dismay, Dean decided to join his father in the family business.

It was then that his father told him the truth behind Mary Winchester's death. A demon, and not just any demon. Azazel, a powerful yellow-eyed demon. According to legend; he was creating an army of enhanced children to help him bring Hell on Earth.

Demons weren't the only things that Dean and his father hunted. They had successfully destroyed a nest of vampires outside of Houston, Texas, stopped a shapeshifter in Bend, Oregon, even pumped a werewolf full of silver in Bangor, Maine.

The thrill of the hunt was something Dean had craved. It cured the dull ache in his chest, saving people. He couldn't explain it to his dad, but to him, it was something he knew Cas would want him to do.

Throughout the time, Sammy was eventually brought into the family secret, proving to be a vital tool as he was extremely book smart and patient - A trait that neither John, nor Dean shared with him. But his heart wasn't in the hunting of monsters. He wanted to make something of himself, become a lawyer, live a normal life. It was a fact that had caused a falling out with both his father and brother.

That was until John went missing and Dean ran to Sammy to help. Even now as much as Dean loves that Sam has his six when they are on a case, he regrets having to pull him from school. Dean wishes more than anything that he could give his little brother a normal life. Not a life where your mom died because of a demon, a life that same demon kills the girl you want to marry or even one where you have demon blood.

If Dean could do things over he would. He would make sure Sammy got the life he deserved, the life he wanted. He didn't give a damn about what happened to himself. After he failed to protect one person he loved, he made it his life's mission to protect his brother.

"You sure about this, Dean?" Sammy asked from the passenger seat besides him, bringing him back from his memories.

"We have to know what brought me back, Sammy." Dean sighed, rolling his shoulders, trying to loosen the stiff muscles in his neck. "You don't just get ripped out of Hell with your soul intact."

"Besides you saw those demons in the diner. They were spooked." They were surrounded by them and none of them made a move on either brother. It was as if something had kept them from advancing even after Dean threw the first punch, or five.

"Yeah…" Sam trailed off looking at the neighborhood they were driving through.

Dean followed an old Pontiac as Bobby Singer pulled over. He had told the boys he knew a powerful psychic that might be able to help them out. Dean still couldn't believe he was back on solid ground. Everything indicates that he died four months ago. He can still remember the feeling as the Hellhounds mauled him to death.

For him, it hadn't been four months. It felt more like forty years. For the majority of that time he was tortured as all souls are in Hell, only it ending once he agreed to become the torturer. The worst part is he enjoyed it.

"Come on, boys," Bobby called out as he started towards the house.

Pamela Benson just explained how she wasn't able to get information from her cards or Ouija board so they were going to do a seance. Dean tried his best to keep his face emotionless, but he didn't believe in psychics. It was ironic considering what Sam and he did on a daily basis. He believed in all the things that go bump in the night. He believed in witches and zombies; but two things he never did trust or believe in: Psychics and Angels.

The four of them sat at her round table. Pamela insisted that they hold hands and that she needed to touch something of whom they were making contact. Dean raised the sleeve of his left arm, revealing the angry raised red hand print. He could hear Sammy suck air in through his teeth in shock from his right. Dean didn't dare look at his baby brother, only keeping his eyes trained on the base of the candlesticks and their contrast to the black cloth adorned with the silver demon trap.

As Pamela began, demanding that the owner of the mark makes themselves known, Dean follows suit and shuts his eyes, trying to concentrate and not find the whole situation a joke. He knew from all the spells that he had done while hunting that remaining focused was key.

His patience didn't last long is it forced his left eye to peek.

"Castiel?" she asked, making contact before raising her eyebrow. "Oh no Castiel, I don't scare easy," Pamela said in a cocky tone.

"Castiel?" Dean asked.

"His name," she responded. "He's warning me to turn back." Just as she said that, the TV behind her turned on. Anything that wasn't tacked down began to shake.

Dean had a bad feeling. He had experienced this at the Gas and Stop before. Just as he was about to tell her to stop, the flame of the candles erupted, shooting higher in the air. Pamela was thrown back as the windows blew out.

Dean jumped up as Bobby shouted for Sam to call for help.

Pamela had been blinded by the sheer force of whatever it was they were conjuring and Dean knew, whatever it was, it was worse than anything they've dealt with before.

Dean let out a frustrated breath as he twirled the demon blade in his hands.

"Are you sure you did the spell right?"

"Boy, I've been doing theses things when you were in diapers," Bobby shot back, a tone of uncertainty in his voice.

Dean looked around the barn. Various religious icons and protection sigils painted on every surface.

A loud crash interrupted the quiet night from outside, making Dean jump from where he sat. He grabbed the sawed off shotgun loaded with rock salt.

The sheet metal roof started lifting and turning, banging itself onto the barns frame. The lights over head explode on their own as if their electrical current was too much for their bulbs to bear. The doors broke open and a well dressed man starts to enter.

 _Demon_ , Dean thought as he fired his first round right into the man's chest. Bobby following suit. Each man pumping two rounds each of rock salt into the suit's chest but he seems unphased, his eyes trained on Dean.

The man stops in front of Dean, strong jaw set as electric blue eyes stare at him. Dean, uncomfortable with his closeness, grabs the knife and starts a dance of sorts, trying to keep out of the stranger's reach. This doesn't deter the newcomer as he follows Dean around in a circle.

"Who are you?" Dean finally asked.

"I'm the one that gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition," he said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Yeah. Thanks for that," Dean responds bitterly. The man in the trench coats gives a little smile and nod to acknowledge Dean's less than grateful thanks.

Dean strikes, plunging the demon blade into the man's chest. Looking back, Dean sees that smile is a little bigger in amusement of his actions. The intruder, tilts his head to the side as he pulls the blade out and drops it unceremoniously to the ground, blue eyes locked onto green.

Panic seizes Dean. _What is he?_ His mind races, thinking of all the creatures in the lore that he's encountered over the years. He looks at Bobby, hoping the grumpy old bastard has a trick up his sleeve. Bobby comes behind the intruder with a crowbar, hoping the steel metal rod will bring this monster down a peg.

Without looking, the man raises his hand and blocks Bobby's swing. He turns to the man wearing the baseball cap and flannel and gently presses two fingers to his head, not letting go of the crowbar until Bobby is safely on the ground.

 _What the hell is going on?!_ Dean screams internally but can only sit there with wide eyes.

The intruder turns to him. Broad blues eyes stare at him again. "We need to talk, Dean," he says before glancing down at Bobby unconscious form. He raises his eyes to Dean again. "Alone,." he adds.

The man moves to the table that they had used to perform the ritual and Dean rushes to Bobby's side. The stress of the events getting him and making his breathing labored as he checks the pulse of the man he considered more of a father than his own.

"Your friend is alive," the stranger says calmly as he turns the pages of a journal.

Dean looks at him. "Who are you?"

"Castiel," he responds simply, not looking at Dean.

"Yeah, I figured that much. I mean _what_ are you?" Dean is officially over the games. He just wants answers.

This piques Castiel's interest as he slowly looks over at Dean. His eyebrows knit together with confusion at the anger he's sensing from Dean's soul.

"I'm an Angel of the Lord." he says calmly, holding Dean's gaze.

Dean's eyes falter as he remembers his mother's voice, a soft whisper in his ears, or a memory most likely. _Angels are watching over you._

Slowly, Dean gets up. The urge to punch Castiel getting stronger with each passing moment. "Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing."

Castiel turns to face him, a sad smile on his lips. "This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith."

Dean wonders why should he have faith, when over and over again he had been screwed by God. Why would he believe in Angels or what Castiel has to say when he didn't even believe in God?

Dean jumps slightly as a thunderhead cracks outside, lighting brightens the barn and Castiel starts to straighten to his full height. As lightning flashes, Dean starts to see the truth. A black shadow behind Castiel starts to show the outline of wings. Slowly the black mass stretches out, revealing the full mass of the Angel's wing before the unbelieving human.

The lightning stops and all Dean can do is nod. His world once again being flipped upside down.

 _Angels are dicks_ , Dean thinks as images of Pamela surface to the front of his mind. "Some angel you are," he says bitterly. "You burned out that poor woman's eyes."

Castiel hangs his head in shame. Remorse rolling over him. "I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be-" He lifts his eyes back to Dean, who violently bites down on his cheek. The blue of the angels eyes haunting him. "-Overwhelming to Humans and so can my real voice. But you already knew that."

"You mean the gas station and the motel?" Dean remembers the way anything with glass blew out of both the Gas and Stop and hotel. The way the ringing in his ears made them bleed. "That was you _talking_?"

Castiel nods in affirmation.

"Buddy, next time, lower the volume." Dean couldn't help the sarcasm.

"That was my mistake." Castiel looks truly sorry, his eyes wide, asking for forgiveness. "Certain people - special people - can perceive my true visage. I thought that you would be one of them. I was wrong."

Dean's eyes narrow at him, wondering why he would think such a thing. "And what _visage_ are you in now, huh? What, a holy tax accountant?"

"This?" Castiel asks, adjusting his khaki colored trench coat. "This is a vessel."

"You're possessing some poor bastard?" Dean's disgust was almost palpable.

"He's a devout man," Castiel explains, remembering when he found Jimmy Novak on his knees in his front yard. "He actually prayed for this."

"Look, pal, I'm not buying what you're selling," Dean responds narrowing his eyes at Castiel. "So who are you really?"

Again Castiel's eyebrows knit together in confusion, his head slightly tilting, not understanding why Dean wasn't listening. "I told you."

"Right," Dean says then asks, challenging Castiel, "and why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"

Now it was starting to make sense to Castiel. "Good things do happen, Dean."

"Not in my experience."

"What's the matter?" Castiel asks. Suddenly his expression changes from confusion to understanding. There it was. The pain, loneliness, self hatred, self doubt; all of it screaming from Dean's soul, infecting Castiel's mind with a strange familiarity. "You don't think you deserve to be saved."

Dean sucks in a shaky breath, trying to regain his composure, as the truth of Castiel's statement washes over him. "Why'd you do it?" he asked, wanting to get to the heart of the matter.

Castiel's composure changed. Rigid and stiff, like that of a solider. "Because God commanded it." He said simply as the voices of other angels rang in Castiel's ears. "Because we have work for you."

 _Dean Winchester is saved._

 _Dean Winchester is alive._

 _Our fight can begin._

 _We must ready Michael._

Of all the things the angels were chanting in Castiel's mind, the one that rang the loudest was _Dean Winchester had been saved._

It was by Castiel's own hand that Dean now walked amongst the Earth, a renewed man and soul. He was commanded by God to raise Dean from the very pits of Hell, and bring the Righteous man back to Earth. After meeting with Dean, Castiel did not understand how this man, full of doubt and hatred, could be the one that is needed to stop the apocalypse.

Despite the humans flaws, it was obvious why he was considered the righteous man, the one to help aide Michael in his battle against Lucifer. For all his hate and anger the need to protect, the need to save sang loudly when faced in a situation.

Even as Castiel watched Dean, Sam, and Bobby battle against the witnesses, he could see why his Father had sent him to Dean. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he felt as if there was more to why he was assigned to prepare this human to battle. Something about the man, made Castiel feel a strange pull to him.

"It's your bond, Castiel." Castiel turns to the voice to see a woman with her hair pulled back into a tight bun. She was dressed in a grey wool pant suit and leaned against the wall.

"Naomi, please," Castiel admonished. He knew of what she was speaking. Once an angel goes into the deepest blackest bowels of Hell to save a soul, there is a bond between the two. This event has rarely occurred. In fact, Castiel can't recall when the last soul was saved from Hell; but he was well versed in what happens with this bond.

"We must prepare him for Michael. You are to watch over him. Keep him alive." Naomi stated, bringing Castiel from his thoughts.

"I understand," Castiel nodded.

"Do not mess this up again, Castiel."

Castiel leans against the kitchen sink in Bobby Singer's home. From where he stands he can see the sleeping form of Dean on the floor in the next room. Regardless of how uncomfortable or how much Dean would regret it later, he would put Sam before himself.

Castiel softly flutters his wings as he pushes them back into a non corporeal plane, trying not to disturb the human. As he listens to the breathing and heartbeats from the next room, he knows his intention was flawed.

He watches Dean roll over and push himself up on this his arms, looking for the noise that disturbs his slumber. He's green eyes meet with Castiel's blue, before looking back to check on Sam.

Castiel waits patiently, knowing that above all, Dean must know that his little brother is okay. Dean slowly walks towards Castiel, pulling his shirt down that had exposed a sliver of skin about the waistline of his jeans.

"Excellent job with the witnesses," Castiel praises. He was impressed with how the trio had been able to deal with the vengeful spirits of ones they could not save on their hunts and how quickly Dean reacted with the final part of the ritual when Bobby was in danger.

Anger and betrayal flash in Dean's eyes. "You were hip to all that?"

"I was-" Castiel was starting to feel uncomfortable under Dean's gaze. He clears his throat before continuing. "-uh, made aware."

"Well that's a lot for the _angelic_ assistance," Dean spat. "You know, I almost got my," Dean points to where it lay beating, "heart ripped out of my chest."

"But you didn't," Castiel pointed out.

"I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings. Halos." Castiel rolled his eyes at the common misconception. "You know, not dicks." Dean finishes.

"Read the Bible," Castiel says simply, amused at the look of shock on Dean's face. "Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier."

"Yeah, well then why didn't you fight?" Dean asks, sounding an awful lot like a rebellious teen sassing the angel.

"I'm not here to perch on your shoulder," Castiel responds with disdain as his eyes narrow at the human before him. "We had larger concerns."

Dean questions him. Again the the guarded look flashes in the human's eyes as he listens to Castiel's responses. Castiel waits patiently for Dean to finish his tirade, only to stop when he questions if there is a God.

"There is a God!" Castiel snaps defensively.

"Yeah, well, I'm not convinced." Castiel takes a deep breath and looks down at the fading linoleum beneath his feet. "'Cause if there is a God, where the Hell is he, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the Earth? The freaking apocalypse?"

Castiel can feel the anger rolling off Dean as he asked these questions. A part of him is screaming "blasphemy" at the human, but another part, a part he can't put his finger on, understands.

"At what point," Dean continues, "does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?"

"The Lord works-"

Dean cuts the angel off, threatening to kick his ass. Castiel holds his hands up as if to surrender, keeping his eyes off the human so he won't see the humor he feels at the threat given. He watches Dean as he approaches, asking if Bobby was right when he had said the rising of the witnesses was just the beginning of the apocalypse.

Castiel looks to Dean. "That's why we're here. Big things afoot."

"Do I wanna know what kind of things?" Dean asks.

"I sincerely doubt it, but you need to know." He can tell Dean is relaxing a bit to his words. Castiel understands, while he may be a soldier for the Lord, Dean is a soldier in his own right as well.

Castiel goes on to explain how this was just the first of what is known as the 66 seals. 66 seals to break open the gates of Hell. Dean makes a crack about SeaWorld, a reference Castiel does not understand, but continues to inform Dean. He explains that Lilith, the same demon that they were trying to kill prior to Dean being sent to Hell, was the one to conjure the witnesses, purposely sending them against hunters knowing that they would be impacted by their inability to save them the first time.

"Think of the seals as locks on a door," Castiel explains.

Dean folds his arms across his chest. "Okay, you pop open the last one and what?"

Castiel turns to him, moving closer so Dean can understand the seriousness of his answer. "Lucifer walks free."

Dean is dumbfounded. Castiel watches him process the information. Again confusion and disbelief hit those green eyes before the words do.

"But I thought Lucifer was just a story they told demon Sunday School."

"Three days ago, you there was no such thing as me." Castiel countered with a smirk. Why do you think we're here, walking amongst you now for the first time in two thousand years?" Castiel asks, but even as he does, it feels as if he is lying to Dean, he feels as if this has happened sooner than that.

"To stop Lucifer," Dean says softly as everything starts to make sense. Castiel nods. Dean makes a retort about how they have done a great job so far. Indicating that the way they handled the witnesses was proof of their failure.

Castiel can't help the anger he feels as he informs Dean that this is not the last battle, that they will be triumphant. He tells Dean that he has lost six of his brethren just in the past week.

Castiel moves to stand in front of Dean, a mere twelve inches separates the human from the angel. He can hear Dean's pulse race, the jade orbs taking in every curve and line of Castiel's face.

"You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around," Castiel states with acid on his tongue. "There's a bigger picture here." He leans closer as Dean tried to look anywhere but at the angel's face.

"You should show me some respect." This makes Dean look at him, a challenge in his eyes. "I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in." And with that warning, Castiel leaves Dean alone in Bobby Singer's kitchen.

Dean went on doing what he does working alongside Sam. Castiel rarely made an appearance into Dean's life, having to deal with other things, but he always kept his eyes on the human. The bond that was created when he brought Dean's soul back had made sure Dean was at the very front of Castiel's mind.

One particular time Castiel left his post was when he noticed Sam had left his brother alone. Dean had been asleep, locked in the memories of his torture in Hell. He would whimper and shake as he relived being skinned like a potato. He'd cry out for help, a sound that made Castiel hurt from somewhere inside. When Castiel sat on the mattress, Dean startled awake. Looking over his shoulder at the angel with wide panic set eyes.

"What were you dreaming about, Dean?" he asked, unsure of how to provide comfort to the human in his distress.

It wasn't until Castiel had used his powers to send Dean back into 1973 and see the truth of his family lineage, did he feel as a comfort to Dean in a time of need.

Castiel came to Dean and placed a tender hand on his shoulder. Dean, who was looking at his young mother and father as his grandfather laid beside them dead, turns with wide eyes full of unshed tears. The angel knew he felt that he had failed. He had failed to prevent his mother making the deal with yellow-eyed demon and even said as much. Castiel assured him that this was destiny. It was a fact Dean did not want to hear.

Dean, of course, had told Sam about the Angel, Castiel, seeming to believe that for whatever reason, Castiel was not making his presence known to Sam. Sam was in awe as his older brother retold the meetings that he had had with him. Dean could see the hero worship in his brother's eyes, knowing that out of the two Winchesters, Sam prayed at night and believed in God and angels.

This is why when Castiel made an appearance to both brothers on Halloween as they worked a case involving the raising of Samhain, Dean was not shocked at Sam's floundering over the man in the trench coat.

"Hello, Sam," Castiel said once Dean explained who he was.

"Oh my God," Sam said awestruck. "Er, uh, I didn't mean to- sorry." He immediately apologized for using God's name in front of an angel. Dean just looked at his brother like he was embarrassed to be near such a 'fangirl.'

"It's an honor," Sam continues. "Really, I-I've heard a lot about you."

Castiel looks down at Sam's offered hand. Unsure what this gesture means. His eyes flash to Dean, standing behind his brother who gives him a slight nod.

Castiel grasps the offered hand and allows Sam to take over the motions. "And I, you," Castiel says. "Sam Winchester -" he places his other hand over their clasped hands, something about the green eyes staring back at him in awe seems familiar - "The boy with the demon blood." Sam looks at him as if he's been slapped. "Glad to hear you've ceased your extracurricular activities."

Sam had teamed up with a demon, Ruby, and started to use some of the telekinetic powers to exorcise demons. He felt that it was better, safer for the humans who had been possessed as the demon blade would kill not only the demon, but the vessel.

It was Castiel that had informed Dean of these activities. Dean didn't want to believe that even now Ruby still had a hold on his brother, until he saw it for himself.

Castiel can sense Dean's approval as the other angel, Uriel, makes his presence known. Threatening to destroy the town full of innocent people, just to get to one witch. Not that he blames Dean, Castiel found it very unfortunate that his superiors felt to assign him a partner that did not care what could be done to spare the creation of man.

When Dean stood up to Uriel, daring him to smite the town while the righteous man is there, Castiel felt proud of the human. Showing just how right it was to bring him back from Hell. When Uriel tried to protest, Castiel stopped him. He knew there would be repercussions for these actions later, but for now, he had faith in Dean to do what was needed to prevent this particular seal from being opened.

Castiel stands in a park with Uriel after the meeting with the Winchesters. "The decision's been made," he says as orders are confirmed from Heaven to let the Winchesters prove their worth.

Uriel laughs bitterly. "By a mud monkey."

Castiel balls his fists behind his back at the derogatory remark towards the humans. "You shouldn't call them that." He admonishes as a group of children walk by in costumes. Castiel can't help the twitch of a smile as a little girl walks by, dressed in an angel costume with white feathery wings and a shiny gold halo.

 _Fluffy wings. Halos._ Dean's voice rings in his ears.

"Oh, that's what they are -" Uriel's tone acidic as he motions to the group ahead of them - "Savages, just plumbing on two legs."

Castiel can feel his anger rising at Uriel's words, his eyes narrow at his brother. "You're close to blasphemy," he warns.

Uriel sighs and sits on the bench near them.

"There's a reason we were sent to save him. He has potential." Castiel explains. "He may succeed here." He sighs and joins his brother on the bench. "At any rate," he pauses, trying to find the words he's looking for. "It's out of our hands." He clasps his hand together, elbows resting on his knees to place his chin upon his hands. Amusement in his eyes as he watches the children frolic.

"It doesn't have to be."

"And what would you suggest?" Castiel can't believe that he is entertaining any of Uriel's notions.

"That we drag Dean Winchester out of here, then we blow this insignificant pinprick off the map."

Castiel cannot believe what he is hearing. How could his brother be so spiteful? To harm the humans of this town without a second thought. They were ordered to ensure Michael's true vessel was unharmed, to protect the eldest of the Winchesters at all costs.

"You know our true orders," Castiel bit out, trying to calm the war raging inside. He looked at Uriel. "Are you prepared to disobey?" he challenged as his brother sucked in an angry breath.

Once again, the brothers had shown that they could get the job done. This is not to say there weren't any hiccups along the way. Sam had used the demon blood within himself to exorcise Samahin, going against not only Dean's wishes but the warning from Castiel.

While Dean sat at the park, he was torn. A part of him wanted to believe that his brother had done his creepy demon blood work because he had no other choice. The other part of him ,however, wondered if it truly could have been avoided.

As always, Castiel watched the older brother from afar, deciding how much he could truly tell him about the purpose for being brought back from Hell. He could sense the human's unease, his worry, and his doubt.

A sound close to that of wings fluttering brought Dean out of his thoughts. He could see the Angel in the dirty trenchcoat sitting on the bench beside him from the corner of his eye. Dean thought that he was there to judge him. To rub it in his face that Sam went against him. _Again_.

"I am not here to judge you, Dean," Castiel informed him. When Dean questioned why he was there Castiel went to explain. "Our orders-"

"Yeah, you know," Dean interrupted the Angel, "I've had about enough of these orders of yours." His impatience clear in his tone.

"Our orders," Castiel repeated in a clipped tone, "were not to stop the summoning of Samhain," he turned his head to look at Dean. "They were to do whatever you told us to do."

Judging by Dean's body language, he could sense that he didn't trust his words.

"It was a test," he continued after Dean asked for clarification. "To see how you would perform under," he paused, "battlefield conditions, you might say" Castiel broke eye contact from Dean's untrusting green eyes to stare out amongst the human children that were playing on the odd shaped metal structure ahead.

"It was a witch," Dean smiled a bit. "Not that offensive." Castiel couldn't help his chuckle at Dean's modesty and truth in his words

"So, I, uh, failed your test?" Dean asked. Strangely as he stumbled to ask that question, he didn't feel disappointed. If anything, Dean felt a sense of pride, confidence. "But you know what," Dean continued, his shoulders squaring, more sure of himself. "If you were to wave that magic time traveling wand of yours and we had to do it all over again, I'd make the same call," he explained, eyes narrowing at Castiel.

The Angel nods, encouraging Dean to continue, curious to how the righteous man thinks.

"See, I don't know what is gonna happen when these seals are broken. Hell, I don't know what is gonna happen tomorrow. But what I do know is that this here-" he gestures to the children playing before them,"- these kids, the swings, the trees. All of it, is still here because of my brother and me." He looks at the Angel, who seems to be absorbing his words, full of conviction.

"You misunderstand me, Dean. I know how you think." Castiel brings his eyes to Dean's. "I was _praying_ that you would choose to save the town." Dean lifts his eyebrow in question to this and Castiel continues, "these people…" he leaves his thoughts hanging in the air as he tries to word his thoughts in a way that the human would understand. "They're all my Father's creations," he looks out to the children again. "They're works of art. And yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal has been broken and we are one step closer to Hell on Earth for all creation. And that's not an expression, Dean."

Dean took a shuddering breath as Castiel's warning seeps into his mind.

"It's literal. You of all people should appreciate what that means." Dean looks down as the memories of his time in Hell flash through his mind. The pain and confusion still as fresh as if it were happening to him with each word the Angel spoke. He couldn't imagine Sam going through that same torture. He couldn't let that happen to his brother.

Castiel watched the pain flash in Dean's eyes. He wondered if he was being too hard on him. If he had gone to far with his charge, revealed too much. Finding a desperate need to end the suffering.

"Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?"

"Okay," Dean responds, surprised that an Angel would have secrets.

"I'm not uh…" Castiel looks down at his clasped hands, trying to find the vernacular he has often heard Dean use. "A hammer, as you say. I have questions. I," he pauses, unsure if he can actually voice his own discretions. Castiel quickly looks at Dean who is watching him with guarded eyes.

"I have doubts. I don't know what is right and what is wrong anymore," he admits. He makes eye contact again so that Dean can see the truth in his eyes. "And whether you passed or failed here." It's at this that Dean breaks their eye contact, disappointment obvious in the young man's face as he looks at the ground.

"But," Castiel continues, "in the coming months you will have more decisions to make."

Dean looks back at Castiel, silently asking with his eyes for more information but not willing to interrupt.

He shakes his head. "I don't envy the weight that's on your shoulders, Dean," he says honestly. "I truly don't."

Dean looks away again. What could he possibly mean about having to make more decisions? He already had a burden that no one his age should have to bear. He turns to ask Castiel questions but sees that the Angel was gone.

Time moves on for the Winchesters as they work together to continue to prevent the seals from being open. They have their fair share challenges, a fallen angel, who had chosen to fall. A siren whose form of the perfect man - for Dean this was someone who knew about cars, shared his love and passion for classic rock and whiskey - manipulated both the brothers into killing each other. Luckily Bobby was there in the nick of time to save them both.

Amongst their travels they were visited by Castiel with Uriel on his tail. Uriel made Dean's blood boil. The darked skinned Angel made it known that he did not care for humans, let alone the Winchesters. Every time Dean had the itch to knock him on his ass, he would remind himself that not all the angels where this way.

Much to Dean's dismay, he had told Sam the truth about his time in Hell. Expressed to him how he could still feel them skin, peel and fillet him, only to piece him back together so that they could start again. He explained to Sam how this went on for what felt like thirty years until he broke, agreeing to Alistair's wishes to torture the souls in the way Dean was.

Dean hated that he enjoyed it. Hated that for him, those ten years being Alistair's bitch was a release from the pain and torture. Sure Dean was into occasional spanking, biting, and hair pulling during sex, but this - the pleasure he got from torture, was just fucking sadistic.

And now, once again, he's face to face with both Castiel and Uriel. They had just gotten back from Pamela's funeral, who sadly had died while helping the brothers on their last case. Uriel, in his usual way, managed to push a button that had Dean on the attack. Dean was sick and tired of Uriel disrespecting him, treating him as if he was his bitch.

Dean Winchester was no one's bitch.

Castiel stood off to the side, behind Uriel, silently watching the exchange. When Dean looked in his direction, Castiel could feel himself recoil from the anger in his green eyes. He could tell that Uriel was reaching the end of the proverbial rope with Dean when he sneered at the human to show some gratitude for being brought back.

"Dean," Castiel interjected, wanting to keep his brother from harming the man, "we know this is difficult to understand."

Dean looked at Castiel challenging him as if to say, "Do you really?"

"And we," Uriel's eyes narrowed to Castiel. His newly appointed power radiating off of the Angel, warning Castiel not to cross him again before he looked back at Dean. "Dont. Care," he seethed.

Castiel clenched his jaw in anger. This was a newly found emotion for his current vessel, which felt strongly familiar. He looked straight ahead, keeping his eyes on the wood paneled walls.

This motion didn't go unnoticed by Dean. He watched the muscles in Castiel's jaw flex with each passing second. The way his hands, which hung loosely at his sides in the oversized trench coat would ball into fists.

Finally Uriel got down to business explaining to the Hunters that several of the Angels from their Garrison were slaughtered, the most recent a sister, had happened just hours previous their arrival to the dive motel room.

Dean's first thoughts were demons. After all, who else would be the bad guys in a war in good versus evil, when allegedly - and Dean this this only because he still believed Angels are dicks - the good guys are the angels.

Finally Sam spoke up, not understanding how they were going to help handle a demon that could take down angels.

"We can handle the demons, thank you very much," Uriel answered, clearly not as grateful as he wanted them to believe.

"Once we find out whoever it is," Castiel added with a scowl at his brother.

Dean could tell there was something more than what the Angels were telling them. The way Castiel was acting, while yes, still dickish, was not in the way Dean was accustomed too.

That's when Castiel dropped the other shoe on him. "We have Alastair," he informed them. "But he won't talk. His will is very strong." He moved himself from the wall to stand closer. "We've arrived at an impasse."

Dean wasn't surprised about that one bit. The things he saw Alastair do in Hell, he knew that the Angels were out of their league. He even voiced this to them.

"That's why we've come to his student," Uriel enlightened, his dark brown eyes narrowing in on Dean. "You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got," his displeasure of the whole situation was evident in his tone.

Dean looked down at his hands, now gripping the back of his chair with such force that his knuckles were white. He was struggling within himself, wanting to believe that they wouldn't be asking him what he thought they were asking. Especially not Castiel. Not the Angel who had gone to Hell personally and removed him from that nightmare.

"Dean," Castiel's voice was pleading. "You're our best hope."

"No," Dean responded quickly. He looked up at Castiel to see the confusion in his blue eyes. "No way," he repeated. "You can't ask me to do this, Cas," he clenched his jaw, the internal battle within wanting to let him scream his rage. "Not this."

Uriel chuckled darkly, the sound of it making the hair on the back of Dean's neck stand on end in a warning. "Who said anything about asking?" the Angel said smugly.

The thinly veiled threat was not missed by the Winchesters as the brothers looked to each other but in a blink, Sam was gone.

Uriel and Castiel had transported Dean to an abandoned warehouse where they had stored his tormentor. He was now looking at Alastair bound and trapped by an Enochian - the script of angels - spell. Castiel assured Dean that Alastair was bound and could not move, but that did not help him.

The nightmares that have haunted him since he was topside played like an old movie reel starring him and the demon before him. He didn't want to do this. He couldn't do what the Angels were asking him. He started heading for the door, telling celestial beings that he won't do it. Uriel stopped him. Dean was beyond over his attitude and looked back at Castiel, hoping he would understand what he was asking Dean to do.

"You can't make me do this."

"This is too much to ask. I know," Castiel agreed as he approached Dean, "but we have to ask it."

Dean looked at the man in front of him, studying him. He could see that this was eating Castiel up as much as him. Dean's resolve broke and he quickly looked to Uriel. "I want to talk to Cas alone," Dean demanded.

Uriel agreed, saying something about seeking revelation. Dean responded about getting donuts, his usual mask of sarcasm in place to hide what he was truly feeling.

Once Uriel left Dean looked at Castiel. "You guys don't walk enough. You're gonna get flabby."

Castiel narrowed his eyes in confusion over Dean's need to use sarcasm with him. "You know I'm starting to think dickless has a better sense of humor than you do." _There it is again_.

"Uriel's the funniest angel in the Garrison. Ask anyone," Castiel advised, clearly not understanding Dean.

Dean shook his head slightly, moving closer to the Angel. "What's going on, Cas," he asked. "Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?"

Castiel was afraid that he had noticed the change in ranks and sighed softly. "My superiors have begun to question my sympathies."

"Your sympathies?"

Castiel looked away before speaking. "I was getting too close to the humans in my charge." He then looked pointedly at Dean. "You." He watched as something clicked in Dean's mind. "They feel I've begun to express emotions, the doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgement."

Dean watched as Castiel shifted uncomfortably before him, avoiding eye contact. _Castiel has a problem. He_ likes _you._ Words that Uriel had told him previously rang through his head.

"Yeah, well, you tell Uriel or whoever," Dean's voice cracked enough for Castiel to hear as he took in a ragged breath. "You do not want me doing this, trust me," the hunter said, watching Alastair from the window in the door.

" _Want_ it?" Castiel asked. "No, but I've been told we _need_ it." An overwhelming feeling of regret washing over him. This was the last thing he would ever want for Dean. It would break him.

Dean's eyes burn as hot tears start to fill his eyes. He bites his cheek hard, willing himself not to show Castiel just how scared he really is.

"You ask me to open that door and walk through it," he paused when his breathing hitches, trying to regain his composure. "You will not like what walks back out."

"For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this." Castiel's words where the final push Dean needed as he swallows thickly and makes his decision and proves that there is someone on his side.

A/N: I do not own any of the characters from Supernatural. I just love them okay. Seriously though, if you've seen season 4 some of the dialogue may seem familiar. This is where the "some cannon" comes into play.

Thanks again to LinsAdair for being my beta. I love you hun!


	3. Chapter 3

The wheels on the cart squeak, loud and nerve wracking. The sound could be compared to nails on a chalk board. A scratchy wool blanket - army green in color - old and fragrant of mold, keeps the contents of the cart from being revealed to anyone other than the one who selected it. A short hallway, engulfed in darkness, seems longer than what its true length is as every step brings him closer.

"Heaven," a raspy voice starts singing as the cart comes closer to him. "I'm in heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak," the voice continues off key.

Heavy booted steps echo around the room in between the man's pauses for breaths.

"I seem to find the happiness I seek." _squeak, step, squeak, step_. "When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek," the man sounds more and more excited as the cart approaches him.

He's gangly looking with graying hair and beard and lazy eyes. No doubt was a man in his mid to late fifties before be became a meat suit for the demon inside. He is bound to an iron forged Star of David. The chains that bind him, also made of iron, hold him much like Christ on a crucifix - arms stretched wide, ankles joined together. Underneath the worn black work boots, a pentacle is painted with elegant symbols emblazoned in silver. Both the men know that its language is Enochian. A language far stronger than that of the Latin used in most traps, this language was created by God himself as a way to speak to his angelic armies.

The man restrained for crucifixion begins to laugh, a sinister scratchy laugh as the cloth is slowly removed from the cart. Deliberately the items are revealed. Each instrument carefully selected to guarantee the best possible outcome.

The man starts to taunt in between his laughter, apologizing for finding such an emotional and serious situation as funny as he does. He is warned that he has one chance to give the name the Angels seek.

"You think I would just see all of your scary toys and spill my guts?" he sneers.

Dean looks upon the man as a malicious smile crosses his lips. "Oh, you'll spill your guts, Alastair. One way or another," he chuckles darkly. "I just didn't want to ruin my shoes."

Alastair continues to taunt Dean, asking him if he's going to work him over. He laughs mockingly at Dean, telling him that he's too scared to do it, that he left a part of himself in Hell and that they should try to bring those two parts together.

Dean looks back at the various blades laid in front of him. All the pain and torture he went through at the hands of this man keeps him focused.

"Oh, come on," Alastair scoffs. "You've got to want a little payback for everything I did to you," he taunts. "All the pokes and prods."

Dean continues to focus on his tools, laying each implement down neatly, ignoring the demon's jibes.

"No?" Alastair asks when Dean does not acknowledge him. "Then how about all the things I did to your Daddy? A hundred years, I had good ol' Johnny strapped to my chair. After each session I'd make him the same offer I made you. I would put down my blade if he'd pick one up."

"Just give me the demon's name, Alastair," Dean repeated. "You might as well quit stalling."

"But he said 'Nein'," Alastair laughs again, ignoring Dean. "Each and every time. Never could break him, because John Winchester was made of the same stuff of heroes," he sighed wistfully before cackling out a laugh. "And then came daddy's little girl," he sneered as Dean removed his leather jacket.

"Dean Winchester. Couldn't make it past thirty years before you begged me. Begged me to stop." Alastair lets out an amused chuckle as Dean takes a long pull from the whiskey bottle in his hands.

"The best part is you didn't break for your Daddy. Not even for your precious little Sammy. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Precious Dean Winchester broke over a girl. A pretty little thing," Alastair hums and licks his lips in a lewd manner. Dean slams the glass down and replaces it with the gallon of water, black rosary beads float within. He pours the water into a chalice, earning an malevolent laugh from Alastair.

"What was her name? Oh yes, _Cassandra_. "

Dean bashes jug of holy water down, biting back the memory of a love lost, keeping his face stoic.

"Holy water?" Alastair shouts in question. "Grasshopper, you're gonna have to get more creative to impress me.

Dean smiles at Alastair. It's dark and full of hate. "You know something, Alastair? I could still dream, even in Hell and over and over and over. You know what I dreamt?"

Alastair confident smile waivers some but he says nothing.

"I dreamt of this moment," Dean clarifies, grabbing the syringe and six inch needle. "And believe me," he practically growls as he pieces the medical equipment together before dipping the tip into the chalice full of water, "I got a few ideas."

Alastair sneers at Dean's actions as he slowly fills the vial, meticulously taking his time to make this perfect.

Dean approaches the demon, giving the needle a gentle squeeze to release a stream of holy water. "Let's get started."

Castiel stands outside the door, unable to leave as he hears the demon groan in pain. The pain he feels inside is not for the demon but for Dean.

Dean holds the demon blade in his hand as he pours holy water on it. A beautiful piece with an ivory handle, silver serrated blade. Various runes are also engraved into the silver.

Alastair, although weakened by the holy water that now pumps through his veins, continues to taunt Dean. Alternating between lewd comments of what he would do with Cassandra's soul to boasting about how he made Dean into what he was today.

Slowly Dean approaches him, his boots scraping against the concrete floor is the only noise he makes.

"I carved you into a n-new animal, Dean," Alastair growls menacingly. "There's no turning back."

Slowly Dean pushes the blade into Alastair's stomach making the demon scream. "Maybe you're right," Dean taunts, pulling the knife up. The lethargic motion of the blade rips at Alastair's flesh. "But it's my turn to carve," he snarls, moving the blade higher into Alastair's abdomen.

Castiel leans against the drafting table just outside the room. He hangs his head, praying for Dean to have strength through this test. After all, did he not warn Dean of the tests he would be placed in, or of the weight that would be on his shoulders in due time. Castiel knew this was one of these times, even if his superiors were leaving him in the dark.

The lights over head start to flicker. Castiel looks up, with a deep exhalation of breath, he can rule out the possibility of there being a ghost, as the temperature hasn't dropped. Only one other force would have that kind of power.

 _Angelic_.

"Hello, Castiel," a soft female voice says from behind. He turns to look over his shoulder where a redhead, no older than twenty stands before him with wide brown eyes. He's seen her before. This was the fallen angel that the Winchesters had helped to restore her grace.

"Anna, your human body…" Castiel looks away, unable to find the words he wants to say. He can still see the way her vessel was destroyed once reunited with her grace.

"It was destroyed. I know," she says her voice getting closer to him. "But, I guess I'm sentimental. Called in some old favors."

"You shouldn't be here. We still have orders to kill you." Castiel isn't sure if his words were meant as a warning or a threat.

She moves to stand beside him. Her outfit much different than the white cotton blouse and faded denim pants in which she had left the vessel before. "Somehow, I don't think you'll try," she says simply. "Where's Uriel?" she asks as an afterthought. Anna's eyes flicker to the door that separates them from the human and demon just beyond the walls before looking back at Castiel.

"He went to receive revelation."

"Right," she looks back at the door as the demon groans than laughs behind it before looking back at Castiel, disappointment clear upon her porcelain face. "Why are you letting Dean do this?"

Castiel feels his face fall at her accusation. Unwilling to let yet another one of his fellow angels see his emotions, he turns his back to her. "He's doing God's work."

"Torturing? That's _God's_ work?" Anna questions him. "Stop him, Cas, Please! Before you ruin the one real weapon you have." Concern laced its way through her words. She knew that Castiel may not remember their past but she did and she knew this would destroy both the human and the angel.

"Who are we to question the will of God?"

"Unless this isn't His will," she says, giving a voice to Castiel's own doubts.

"Then where do the orders come from?" Castiel asked trying to maintain an even tone.

"I don't know," she responds simply. "One of our superiors maybe. But not Him."

Both angels pause their conversation and turn to the door. They can hear Alastair sputtering, choking on his own blood as Dean asks, "Who is murdering the Angels?"

Anna takes this chance to make Castiel look at her. "The Father that you love," she pauses as Castiel's brow begins to form in a scowl. "You think He wants this?" she continues. "You think He'd ask this of you?" She can see the sorrow in his blue eyes as he tries to fight it.

"You think this is righteous?" She presses. Castiel breaks eye contact as she moves closer to him. "What you're feeling, it's called doubt."

He looks at her again as he struggles internally between being the soldier he is supposed to be and his feelings that he has begun to understand.

She places her hand onto Castiel's. "These orders are wrong," she says softly as he looks at their hands. Her touch a strange mix of comfort and pain for him, "and you know it." He looks back to her face, trying to see if her words are lies.

"You can do the right thing." she pleads with her brother. "You're afraid, Cas. I was too." She squeezes his hand, reassuringly. "But together, we can-"

"Together?" Castiel interrupts. Her words should help lift the burden off of his heart but instead they feel like ice in his veins. She chose to fall from Heaven. She chose to live without her grace. She chose to rebel against their Father.

He yanks his hand from her grasp, causing her to move back. "I am _nothing_ like you," he spat angrily. "You fell! Go."

He starts to walk away from her, anger and confusion coursing through his body.

"Cas," she calls to him. Her heart breaking as her brother, her friend, turns from her. She wants nothing more than to tell him the truth behind his bond with the human in the next room but knows Castiel, the devoted soldier that he is and always will be, will never believe her.

"Go!" He yells one last time before she disappears.

Dean had just finished pouring salt down Alastair's throat causing him to choke and cough. Dean was getting tired of the taunts. He had finally moved away from Cassandra and was telling Dean that Lilith wanted him in Hell the whole time.

Alastair coughs and spits out bloody chunks. "I'm sorry," he rasps out between coughs. "I got something in my throat." Dean clenches his jaw waiting for the demon to stop stalling.

"I think it's my throat," Alastair quips after the last bloody cough.

"Well strap in," Dean says with an unpleasant smile. "I'm just getting started." He moves back to the cart, trying to decide what tool to use next.

"It was supposed to be your father. He was supposed to bring it on," Alastair says, chuckling to himself. "But in the end it was you," he says to Dean, his laugh getting more boisterous. "You brought it on."

"Bring what on?" Dean asks in a bored tone as he cleans off the demon blade with holy water, then sprinkles it with salt.

"It all started when you said, 'sign me up.' When you picked up my razor for the first time and sliced into that weeping bitch…"Alastair trailed off causing Dean to look at him. "That was the first seal."

Son of a bitch! Dean screamed in his head, but keep at emotion from his face. If anything he appeared bored to Alastair. "You're lying," he said simply. As he approached the demon, an evil grin ghosted across his lips.

Alastair didn't take kindly to being called a liar. His whole body went rigid as he recited the prophecy. "And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break."

Dean scoffs and turns his back to him.

"We had to break the first seal before any others. The only way to get the dominoes to fall right was to topple the one at the front of the line."

Dean tries to control his breathing as his heart starts to race. It makes sense actually. Why else would the big bad have been there with Dean and Sam, guised as Ruby helping them, only to watch Dean get dragged to hell. After all Castiel did warn him that there were hundreds of seals, all Lilith would need is sixty six of them.

Fuck , that's at least three seals that Dean knew of that he failed to keep closed.

"When we win. When we bring on the apocalypse and burn this Earth to the ground," Alastair barbs at Dean. "We'll owe it all to you. Dean Winchester."

Dean closes his eyes, the muscles in his jaw working overtime as he tries his hardest to keep from breaking. He failed. He failed his father, his brother, even that damn angel standing outside. He failed them all.

"Believe me, son. I wouldn't lie about this."

What Dean had failed to realize was this whole time, a pipe from the water lines was slowly leaking. The constant drips against the concrete started to eat away at the paint, making the Enochian demon trap weaker with each passing moment. This, however, hadn't escaped Alastair's notice.

"No," Dean said with a shaky breath. "I don't think you are lying. Even if the demons do win," he pauses to look down at the bloody blade in his hands. Determination now seeping into his voice, "You won't be there to see it."

When Dean turns, he is now faced to face with his own personal tormentor from Hell, free of his binds. Alastair catches Dean with a right hook that knocks him to the ground. Picking the human up by the collar of his shirt, he continues, blow after blow to Dean's face. Dean's left eyebrow is split as well as his cheek and lip. He's pretty sure that his nose is broken but that does not compare the the burning in his throat as Alastair chokes him, lifting him from the ground and shoving him against the Star of David.

He feels Alastair's fingers squeeze tighter along his windpipe. "You've got a lot to learn, boy. So I'll see you back in class, bright in early in the morning," Alastair says at Dean's vision starts to fade, darkness seeping in as his brain and lungs are deprived of oxygen.

 _Cas, I'm sorry, I failed you._

Castiel heard Dean's last thoughts, flashing into the room and grabbing Dean's knife. Alastair hears the movement, dropping Dean's unconscious body to the floor as he turns on Castiel. The angel uses that moment to strike, plunging the blade into the demon's chest.

Alastair laughs, looking down at the blade. "Oh, almost. Looks like God is on my side today," he says smugly.

Castiel rolls his neck and lifts his hand. Using his grace he slowly twists the knife's serrated blade in Alastair's chest, earning grunts of pain from the demon. After the silver has twisted three hundred sixty degrees, Alastair raises a shaky hand to pull it out of his chest, dropping it before lunging at the angel.

Castiel moves, catching Alastair with an uppercut followed by a right hook. Alastair responds in kind and blood now runs down Castiel's forehead, stinging his eyes as he fights back with all his might. Using both hands to knock into the demon, Castiel looks like he might have the advantage.

Alastair stumbles but regains his footing. He grabs Castiel's lapels in his fist, running him into one of the support beams behind the angel. Castiel's eyes widen as the hook in the beam now pierces through the back of his vessel, slicing as Alastair yanks him down.

Castiel claws at the hands wrapped his throat, trying to free himself as the demon starts to chant the Latin spell that will send the angel back to Heaven. He tries his best not to make a sound as he can feel his true form begin to leave his body. He knows Dean won't be harmed at this point as long as he is unconscious and as long as Castiel doesn't use his voice. Alastair's face starts to reflect the blue light of Castiel's grace. _Not yet_ , Castiel thinks, trying his best to fight against the spell.

Suddenly the pressure on Castiel's windpipe is relieved and Alastair is thrown against a wall, pinned by some invisible force. The angel manages to pull himself off the hook and slides down into a squat as he tries to regain control of his vessel.

"Who's murdering the Angels?" A voice to Castiel's left asks. Sam is there, his hand held out wide in front of him, anger clear in his eyes as he stares down the demon. "How are they doing it?"

Alastair laughs, "You think I'm gonna tell you?" Sam responds by moving his fingers as if clenching the demon's throat. Alastair's eyes turn a milky white as he starts to gag.

"How are the demons killing the angels?" Sam asks again, anger being replaced by rage.

Castiel looks between the younger Winchester to the demon. He knows there is something happening with Sam to make him this powerful and yet he can't seem to bring the truth to mind as he watches in stunned silence.

"I don't know!" Alastair grunts out between breaths as Sam's power chokes him more. "It's not us!"

It's not us ? Castiel questions what he just heard. If not the demons then who? Was Anna right? Could there be forces in Heaven who are behind the slaughtering of his brothers and sisters?

"Lilith is not behind this," the demon tries to growl out. It feels like everything is clicking into place for Castiel. Of course she's not. This was insignificant to her compared to the seals.

"She wouldn't kill seven angels," Alastair continues, his words bringing Castiel back to the information Sam was now getting. "She'd kill a hundred," Alastair taunts with an evil smirk at Castiel. "Thousands."

Sam relaxes his fist and posture, letting go of the demon. Alastair pants, taunting Sam to send him back to hell. Sam tells him that he's stronger now and can kill the demon.

Castiel's eyes are wide as he looks at Sam. This was new. This also confirmed his previous thoughts about Dean's little brother. Sam was taking the abilities given to him by the yellow eyed demon and increasing their strength. There was only one way that Castiel knew that could be done. Sam had been ingesting demon blood. _Dean is going to be so pissed!_

Sam calmly looks at Alastair as the demon screams. A bright yellow light starts to seep through the chest of the human he has possessed, moving itself up until it reaches his eyes. Then almost as suddenly as it has started, it ends. The once living and breathing human slumps to the floor. Nothing more than a corpse - a sad consequence to the possession of a demon as opposed to what the angels do with their vessels.

Sam has a proud smirk on his face as he looks at the body. He had finally did it. Shown the angels that he is stronger than his brother. His eyes are met with the angel's blue ones, which are narrowed in both anger and disappointment. Why was he disappointed with the younger Winchester? Castiel couldn't place it at this time but something in the back of his thoughts was scratching to answer it.

Right now, there was something more important to take care of. Dean.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was hospitalized. Castiel had listened from the hallway as doctor explained the extent of his injuries to Sam.

"Mr. Winchester, he has a concussion, fractured jaw, multiple facial injuries that will heal with stitches and time. Honestly, we're not sure when he'll wake up. The lack of oxygen to his brain may cause some damage."

"Some damage?" Sam asks over the faint tones of the heart monitor and breathing machine Dean was connected too.

"Yes, sir. So far all of our readings are indicating that he has normal brain activity and if anything, the coma is just his way to repair." Castiel heard the doctor pause and the scratching of a pen. "Just give it time, son."

That had been nearly a week. A solid week of Sam crying over his brother's still body. A week of hearing Sam's prayers for God to save him. A week of Sam cursing Castiel's name. A week of Castiel agreeing with Sam over the latter.

He wanted to use his grace to heal Dean. He truly did but the minute Sam demanded that Castiel performed a miracle to save Dean, he received explicit instructions from Heaven not to intervene and while Sam yelled at him in the hall of that tiny hospital, thousands of questions ran through Castiel's mind.

He wanted to ask Uriel what had happened. Why Heaven, who was so keen on saving Dean in the first place, refused to help him now. Did they not need Dean to be Michael's vessel for the battle against Lucifer? Or was that a lie?

Instead he sought solace in the one person he could think of. Anna.

He had gone to one of the historical buildings in town. The two story colonial building blended in beautifully with the fresh white snow surrounding the grounds. He knew Anna would come to this place since she was always the one in Garrison who loved the history of humans.

"Anna, please," Castiel said desperately after she had not shown to his previous calls.

The street lights started to flicker and Castiel looked up at the one above his head. Was this what Dean saw? He wondered. He turned when he heard the flutter of wings.

"Decided to kill me after all?" the redhead asked.

"I'm alone."

"What do you want from me, Castiel?"

"I'm considering disobedience." Even though he felt this might be the right path, it still pained him to say. After all, when Lucifer, one of his Father's trusted angels, started to show disobedience and question things, he was cast out of Heaven. Heaven was the only home Castiel had known and didn't want to lose that or his family.

"Good," Anna responded with a slight nod. She knew Castiel had disobeyed before. She, unlike Castiel, remembers his time on Earth before.

"No, it's not," Castiel said truthfully. "For the first time, I feel."

"It gets worse," Anna confirmed, moving close to him. "Choosing your own course of action. It's confusing. It's terrifying." She reaches out and squeezes his arm, knowing that the feelings he has are the doubts of his orders and a caring for Dean.

Castiel responds to her comfort by pulling away.

"That's right," she said with a bitter chuckle, "You're too good for my help. I'm just trash." Castiel looks to her now. "A walking blasphemy." She turns on her heels to walk away.

"Anna," Castiel calls out to stop her. "I don't know what to do. Please tell me what to do," he begs his former commander.

She looks at him over her shoulder and gives him a sad smile. "Like the old days?" she asks. He looks at her expectantly and she shakes her head. "No, I'm sorry. It's time to think for yourself." With that, she was gone. Leaving Castiel to stand alone and think.

He glances around, unsure what to do next, when his attention is drawn to a water fountain that has a pipe and control valve. Castiel narrows his eyes and tilts his head as he looks at the pipes construction and the slight stream of water than seeps from the pipe.

He goes back to the warehouse. Something about the control valve at the park made him want to trace his steps. He walks around the room, his fingers brush against the bottle of Evan Williams Dean had drank from. His eyes glance around to the area in question. How could Alastair escape the demon trap? he wonders as he walks around the perimeter and he sees it. There's a break in the paint.

Castiel squats down and runs his fingers along the spot that is now clear of paint. It's smooth and there is no trace of paint but it's still damp. He looks up and sees the water pipe above and notices that there is water slowly running in the outside along the pipe from where the connection bolts meet. He walks over to the control valve and moves it to see if it will tighten. He clenches his jaw when it gives and tightens to close the off the water supply. Only two others knew of the location of Alastair. He knew Anna wasn't behind this because he had seen she felt for Dean, that while she may not have had a bond with him like that of his own, they did share a brief intimate connection.

Uriel

"You called for me?" Uriel says as he enters the room. He thinks that Castiel wants to join him in the rebellion against Heaven and the humans.

"It's strange," Castiel says ignoring Uriel's question. "Strange how a leaky pipe can undo the work of angels. Especially when we ourselves," he looks at Uriel, "are supposed to be the agents of fate."

"Alastair was much more powerful than we had imagined," Uriel says deceptively and Castiel knows it.

"No. No demon can over power that trap." He points to it and watches Uriel's eyes flicker in discomfort before going blank of emotions. "I made it myself," Castiel adds. This was a big deal as he was the most powerful of the Garrison. He was the one that would be called upon to perform the various spells and incantations that were needed on the field. While, yes, he was a strong fighter, he was stronger with magic and languages.

Castiel gives Uriel a small smile that doesn't match the emotions within him. "We've been friends a long time, Uriel. Fought by each other's sides, served together away from home," he moves closer, his gaze narrowing, finally showing the signs of the betrayal he was feeling. "For what seem like forever. We're brothers, Uriel." He watches Uriel's reaction and knows that he's caught him. "Pay me that respect. Tell me the truth."

"The truth is, the only thing that can kill an angel is another angel." Uriel exposes his blade that was hidden in the arm of his suit. Castiel watches as his friend means to threaten him, the smug look on his face answers the questions Castiel had.

"You."

"I'm afraid so." Uriel agrees, his tone flat and bored.

"And you broke the devil's trap and set Alastair on Dean." Castiel could see something flicker in Uriel's eyes when he mentions Dean.

"Alastair should never have been taken alive. It was really inconvenient, Cas." Castiel clenches his fists, waiting for Uriel to finish. "Yes, I did turn the screw a little. Alastair should have killed Dean and escaped and you should've gone on happily scapegoating the demons."

How could Uriel think that this was all okay? To let the Righteous Man die? To kill their brethren?

"For the murders of our kin?" Castiel asks.

Uriel rolls his eyes. "Not murders, Castiel, no. My work is conversion. How long have we waited here? How long have we played this game by rules that make no sense?"

Castiel shakes his head. He will not hear Uriel's excuses. "It is our Father's world, Uriel."

"Our Father," Uriel says the name distastefully. "He stopped being that, if He ever was, the moment he created them. Humanity. His favorites."

No no no no no, Castiel thinks as he shakes his head. This is blasphemy.

"His whining, puking larvae." Uriel continues. "I wanted you to join me and I still do. With you, we can be powerful enough to-"

"To?" Castiel interrupts, his voice low and deadly.

"To raise our brother," Uriel says wistfully.

Castiel feels as if he had been kicked in the stomach. "Lucifer."

"You do remember him." Uriel looks pleased that Castiel knows who he's talking about. "How strong he was, how beautiful he was." Uriel's words of adoration sounding like what Castiel had witnessed females doing when speaking of their favorite actor.

"And he didn't bow to humanity, he was punished for defending us. Now, if you want to believe in something, believe in him, Castiel."

No, Castiel thinks. Lucifer was cast out of Heaven because of his vanity. He was to reflect their Father's glory. Lucifer let his vanity take over, he thought he was God's glory. Castiel had heard this being said as "God's gift to women," when the humans spoke men who were vain. That was what Lucifer really was.

Hearing Uriel's reverence for Lucifer as God made Castiel's stomach turn and a taste of sour taste of acid form in his mouth.

"Lucifer is not God," Castiel is appalled at the thought.

"God," Uriel's voice is full of venom, "Is not God. He doesn't care what we do." He moves to walk around Castiel now, taunting him. "I am proof of that."

"But this?" Castiel asks turning to face Uriel. "What were you going to do? Were you gonna kill the whole Garrison?"

He shakes his head. "I only killed the ones who said no."

Castiel narrows his eyes at him trying to understand the betrayal. To think he once considered this angel a friend, a brother, and he willing slaughtered their kind - and for what?

"Others have joined me, Cas. Now please, brother, don't fight me. Help me. Help me spread the word. Help me bring on this apocalypse."

Castiel moves his head slightly to indicate no. He is to stop the apocalypse. He is to assist the Winchesters and Michael.

"All you have to do is be unafraid," Uriel says softly.

Castiel acts as if he's debating Uriel's offer, buying time, or stalling - as he's learned from his observation of the Winchesters. All he was really doing was misdirection, calculating his next move.

"For the first time, I am," he says making Uriel think he is on his side before Castiel uses all his weight to push a forcefully blow into Uriel's chest with his hand. The force send Uriel through a brick wall, where he quickly regains his stance.

Uriel lunges at Castiel, getting him with a right hook and when he tries to swing with left jab, Castiel deftly moves. Soon the two angels are using each other for boxing practice. Expert swings, connecting. Shoving each other into walls and columns.

Castiel picks himself up after flying into one of the support beams. He spits the blood from his vessel's mouth, a cold, callous smile crosses his lips, taunting his brother. He knows that the only way to make it out alive is to kill Uriel. After a few more punches, he thinks he might have it as Uriel staggers back.

Uriel blind sides him with a rod of rebar, bringing Castiel to his knees.

The blood from Castiel's nose, trickles down his face and mixes with that in his mouth. "You can't win, Uriel," he says looking up at him defiantly as Uriel grabs his shoulder roughly. "I still serve God."

"You haven't even met the man!" Uriel snarls. "There is no will!" Pain sears Castiel's face as Uriel's fist makes contact with it again. "No wrath!" Another blow. "No God," Uriel growls at Castiel as he pulls back to swing again.

Only this time the blow doesn't make contact with his face. Instead Castiel sees a blade protruding through Uriel's windpipe, a look of shock on the angel's dark eyes.

"Maybe or maybe not," Anna whispers from behind Uriel, her blade pushing farther. "But there's still me." She pulls her blade out and moves to Castiel's side as Uriel's body slumps to the floor.

Suddenly the warehouse is engulfed in a bright blinding white light as Uriel's true visage is leaving its vessel, windows exploding with the force of his true form. The last scraps of his grace, flowing back to Heaven.

As Castiel stands, he takes one last look at what remains of the man he called brother for so many years, the burn of the angel's wings permanently scorched into the ground.

It's been three days since the battle with Uriel and the truth behind this killing of the angels were revealed. Dean and been taken off the respirator and was finally breathing on his own.

When Castiel came to check on his charge, Sam used that time to go get some much needed rest, hoping that the angel could comfort his brother when he awoke.

Castiel waited for Dean. He listed to the steady breathing and the faint beeps from the heart machine. He watches as the humans muscles would react to whatever dream plagued his REM cycles. He listened to the nurses and doctors whisper to each other about Dean's prognosis all the while, deciding how much to tell the Righteous Man.

It wasn't until Castiel heard the faint intake of breath that he knew for certain Dean was awake.

"Are you alright?" he asks from beside Dean's bed, his eyes trained on the blank TV screen across the room.

Dean looks to the angel besides him. He studies the trench coat that's at least a size too big, the unevenly buttoned white shirt and the crooked and backwards blue tie. He studies the pensive look on Castiel's face, wondering what the hell he is thinking.

"No thanks to you," he says bitterly.

Castiel sighs and shifts slightly. "You need to be more careful."

"You need to learn how to manage a damn devil's trap," Dean counters, his voice still raw sounding from being intubated.

"That's not what I mean," Castiel sighs again. He watches Dean from his peripheral vision. "Uriel is dead."

This piques Dean's interest. "Was it the demon?" he asks.

"It was his disobedience," he answers before look into Dean's eyes. The pain in his eyes, the gashes and cuts, the swollen eye, all of it pains the angel to see.

"He was working against us," Castiel explains.

Dean looks away. He needs to know if he was start of it all, if Alastair was right.

"Is it true?" Dean asks making Castiel focus on him again. Dean can see the haunted look in Castiel's blue eyes.

"Did I break the first seal? Did I start all this?"

"Yes," Castiel answers honestly as Dean's eye focus on anything but him. "When we discovered Lilith's plan for you, we laid siege in Hell and we fought our way to get to you before you-" he hesitates as he watches the mask Dean tries to hide behind crumble.

"Jump-started the apocalypse," Dean finishes, his voice breaking.

Castiel looks towards the Heavens, seeking guidance, knowing that this conversation was not one that would win back Dean's favor toward their cause. "We were too late."

"Why didn't you just leave me there, then?"

"It's not blame that falls on you, Dean." It's me, I wasn't fast enough. "It's fate," Castiel explains as he leans forward, resting his arms against his knees. "'And the Righteous Man who begins it, is the only one who can finish it'," Castiel recites the prophecy to Dean before looking back at him. "You have to stop it."

"Lucifer?" he asks in a whispered response as the tears he was holding back starts to break free. "The apocalypse? What does that mean?"

Castiel looks away again. He can hear his commander telling him to come back. To not answer Dean's questions. He knows he must follow orders but there's something about Dean being in the broken state he is now because of him, that makes it that much harder for Castiel to leave.

"Hey!" Dean shouts as loud as he can given his throat feels like he's been swallowing gravel and razor blades. "Don't you go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch. What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

"Bull!"

"I don't," Castiel looks at him again. "Dean, they don't tell me much." All Castiel knows is that Dean is needed as Michael's vessel to defeat Lucifer. However telling Dean this would be a direct violation of his orders and with the way Naomi is seething in the back of his mind, he knows he can't disobey. "I know that our fate rests with you," he supplies hoping to placate Dean for now.

Dean's jaw trembles. He remembers that Castiel had warned him about the weight that would be placed onto his shoulders. How could they expect one man to save all of humanity from the oldest villain ever told? He has a hard enough time saving Sammy. He can't do this.

"Well then, you guys are screwed," he takes a shaky breath as the tears flow stronger. "I can't do it, Cas. It's too big." He watches as Castiel looks away again clenching his jaw as Dean confesses his thoughts to him. "Alastair was right. I'm not all here. I'm not -" he hates admitting his fears and doubts. "I'm not strong enough."

Castiel looks at him again and Dean doesn't see the disappointment, resentment, or pity that he expects from the angel. Instead he sees guilt, shame, and sadness. All emotions he doesn't understand why they are there. He should be the one feeling them. Not Castiel.

"Well, I guess I'm not the man either of our dad's wanted me to be."

Once Dean was released from the hospital, he and Sam went back to doing what they did best, hunting things and saving people. Neither one spoke of what they were both thinking of. The apocalypse.

Castiel had done his best to stay away from the Winchesters, only helping when needed. They seemed to be getting things done on their own, accomplishing all that is needed of them. Sam tried to stay away from the demon Ruby and Dean tried to ignore his destiny.

This plan seemed to work for all that was involved. At least that was until the Winchester brothers were contacted by a young man by the name of Adam Milligan. The boys would have ignored the kid, if it hadn't been for one simple phrase that both gave them hope but crushed at least one brother's heart. Adam was John Winchester's youngest son.

The boys had learned of Adam after his mother was taken by a creature. A creature they had later learned to be a ghoul. Dean being the cynical hunter he was, used all the tricks he could think of to prove to not only Sam but himself that this Adam character was something that needed to be ganked because there was no way in Hell John would have left an eleven year old Dean with seven year old Sammy while he played house with Adam and his mother Kate. The tests - holy water in the drinking glass that would surely make a demon howl in pain and the sterling silver cutlery no shapeshifter could handle without melting his own flesh - proved to be ineffective as Adam drained the glass of water and enjoyed his meal, telling the elder two stories about how John would take him to baseball games every year.

The more that they talked the more it became apparent that Adam was in fact a Winchester. Sam seemed to be pleased with the prospect of another brother, no longer being the baby. Adam was smart, graduated top of his class in high school and was attending the state university for pre-med. These new facts and they way it was unspoken of how proud John was of his youngest was like twisting the knife in Dean's chest. Feeling robbed of the attention and affection that Adam clearly got, while he was forced to grow up hunting and watching over Sam.

Sam had suggested using their brother as bait for the ghoul justifying it by saying that even if Adam died, there will always be something out there, looking for revenge on their father or them. Dean didn't want to do that to Adam. The kid had a chance to live a normal life. It wasn't his fault that his mother fell for their father. If he had the option to keep Sam out of this when we has younger, he would have.

While Sam was teaching Adam how to shoot, Dean stood off to the side watching as he leaned against the Impala. He was angry but didn't know who to place the blame on. Should he blame his father? A man who had left Dean and Sam with Bobby, where they attempted to live as normally as they could. Maybe he blames Sam. After all, had Sam stayed in California rather than go with him to look for their father, John would be alive, Dean wouldn't have ever gone to Hell and Sam would be something better than the junkie for demon blood. Shit, maybe he's angry at the stupid angel that ripped him from Hell. After all, Castiel didn't get him out soon enough and if he had, then Dean himself wouldn't have broken the first seal.

Son of a Bitch, Dean thinks to himself. He's not mad at any of those three. John was only trying to avenge his love. Sam was trying to be the good son and brother, and Castiel - well he even said it himself, he's an angel with orders. It's not any fault of these three that he spilt the blood in Hell. It's not their fault that he was too weak to deny Alistair. That he's still too weak to say yes to the angels and allow Michael to take his true vessel.

Of course little did Sam and Dean know, the Adam that they were spending time with wasn't truly Adam. No, for all their preparations of getting their younger brother ready to protect themselves, it was them that needed protecting for this Adam was a ghoul. It had killed their brother in hope to trap and kill John Winchester, only to find that he was already dead. Not that that would stop the ghoul, after all, the Winchester sons were just as wanted amongst the supernatural world as their father was. Especially Dean. This ghoul wanted to capitalize on that get the bragging rights of being the one who prevented the angels from being able to stop Lucifer or the apocalypse by ending their prize fighter.

As in all their hunts, one brother came to the rescue at just the right time. Dean had managed to take out the ghoul and save Sammy from bleeding out.

Castiel could do many things the humans were not privy to. One of those things was the ability to dream walk amongst his charges. Often times when he found a lull in his orders he would visit the brothers and use their time of unconsciousness to learn more about them. Sam's dreams would often involve his previous life of law school exams and memories of a beautiful young blonde he would call Jess. A few times he even had horrific dreams about being a monster, a monster with demon blood who needed the blood of other demons to survive. The saddest ones that Sam would have always had one recurring theme, disappointing Dean.

Dean's dreams were slightly more predictable as they alternated between two topics in particular. Either memories of his time in hell, whether he was the one being tortured and begging for someone to come save him or of his torturing the souls himself. Castiel tried to stay out of these dreams as they were too painful to experience, even for the angel. Instead for those nights, he would stay by the hunter's side, soothing the fear and pain as Dean would call out or whimper in his sleep.

The second dream that Dean would have on occasion was of his childhood prior to hunting with his father. These dreams would show the younger Dean laughing and carefree with a female friend. Castiel liked to watch these because unbeknownst to humans, their dreams are tangible with the emotions of it. So these dreams always made a warmth form in Castiel's chest. The ability to see the hunter full of hope and happiness was something Castiel actually craved like a drug. Underneath his feeling of warmth there was something else tugging at him that he couldn't place. Especially when Dean would dream of his teenage self and profess his love for the young girl in his arms.

"Seriously, Cassie?" Gabriel drawled out the nick name when Castiel expressed his confusion about that feeling.

"Yes, Gabriel. That was the human girls shortened name."

Gabriel shakes his head. "You have got to be one of the dumbest Seraphims I know, Cas," he says exasperated. "I've been calling you Cassie for how long now?"

Castiel thinks about Gabriel's question and shrugs. "For as long as I can remember. We technically didn't start talking until recently and I assumed you had called me that because it was annoying."

"She really did a number on you this time, didn't she?" he asked. His golden eyes look at Castiel in concern. "You don't remember anything before saving Dean, do you?"

"Of course I do. I've been at battle. My Garrison was assigned to help prepare for the rising of Lucifer before I was called to lead and aid in the rising of The Righteous Man."

"Fucking Naomi," Gabriel growls before placing his hand on Castiel's forehead. "This might sting a little."

Castiel gasps as images infiltrate his mind. The images he has seen from Dean's dreams as well as others he can't place. Memories of a former vessel - young female, long dark hair, a tinkling laugh. Cassandra. Feelings follow of love, companionship, trust. Dean's lips against the vessel's with a nervous laugh. Dean holding the vessel as they wait in line at a fair. Dean protecting the vessel when bullies try to harass her.

Castiel can't breathe, all the feeling, emotions and memories are too much to take. He puts his head between his knees trying to catch his breath, trying to calm the wave of nausea as more images flutter in.

It's the image of Gabriel and Anna standing in front of the young vessel. He's laughing at her as Anna frowns in concern. "You're in love with the human."

"You…" Castiel croaks out glaring at Gabriel. "You were there!"

Gabriel nods. "Yeah, little brother, I was there. Anna was assigned to watch over and you know me. I'm not one to follow orders so I tagged along. After the accident, the one that you saved Dean in, Namoi was assigned to your debriefing."

"She reprogrammed me." Castiel meant to ask it as he had heard of other angels who had to be reprogrammed after they had failed or gone against commands. It was either that option or your garrison was sent to destroy you.

Again Gabriel nods, his usual jovial look is darkened with an anger Castiel can't remember ever seeing. "Yes. I think it was stupid to do. Especially when Dad sent you to save Dean from Hell. I'm sure you couldn't go to him and be like, 'Hey there good lookin, remember me?"

"I have to tell Dean," Castiel says suddenly, jumping up.

"Be careful, little brother."


	5. Chapter 5

Dean sat on the dock, the waves crashing against the beams as his fishing lure bobbed peacefully in the water. The sun was slowly creeping up along the horizon, leaving the morning air crisp with the coming fall. The sky line was painted in beautiful hues of blue, pink, and orange.

He sighs deeply as the cup of coffee he holds warms him up. He finds a sense of serenity while listening to the rippling water and the sounds of nature awaking to the new day. He can't remember the last time he went fishing or even how he got here but he's not complaining.

Dean smiles to himself, a small smile that most would miss, as the sound of wings flutter by him, birds chirping.

 _Wait, fluttering?_ He asks himself and jumps as the image of tan peeks through his peripheral vision.

He looks to his right where Castiel stands looking out over the water. His face is pulled together in concentration. "We need to talk."

"I'm dreaming aren't I?"

"It's not safe here," Castiel responds. He's scared. The human hasn't caught on to this yet. "Some place more private," he adds. He can't risk Naomi or the others hearing what he has to tell Dean.

"More private?" Dean asks incredulously. "We're in my freaking head." He scoffs a bit at the absurdness of having a dream with Cas telling him his own mind isn't safe.

"Exactly," Castiel agrees. "Someone could be listening."

This gets the hunter's attention. He looks up at Castiel, finally recognizing the cagey look in the angel's eyes. "Cas, what's wrong?" he asks, suddenly feeling the urgency in the situation building up.

"Meet me here," the angel says, slipping a folded piece of paper into Dean's hands. "Go. Now."

Dean looks down at the address. A question on his lips but is never uttered as Castiel disappears.

 _Son of a bitch!_

When Dean wakes up he drags Sam with him to the address Castiel had given him. Not sure what to expect and based on Castiel's actions, both brothers are armed to the teeth. A part of Dean is hoping that Castiel just wants to talk about how they are going to get out of the cage fight with Lucifer without having to risk either Sam or himself. He never expected to get there and find the place looking as if a tornado ripped through it.

The warehouse had collapsed beams, cracked and broken concrete, and debris everywhere. Sam lets out a low whistle as he tucks his gun into the back of his pants.

"What happened here?" his question is rhetorical but Dean can't help the shrug and sense of panic as he scans the area looking for signs.

He sees a sigil painted along one of the still intact walls. The symbols within are clearly what he's learned to recognize as Enochian.

"Damnit, Cas," he mutters as he looks at it.

"Do you think he warded them out, including himself?" Sam asks as a groan floats through the air from one of the piles of debris.

"Cas?!" Dean shouts his question, rushing to the pile to remove the drywall and rebar. Sam hurries to help as the unbury the owner of the groan.

Amongst the rubble they find Castiel looking bewildered at the two men. He's bleeding from his hairline and for someone being buried under the building's material, he barely has a scratch on him.

Sam holds a hand out offering to help the angel up. The man takes it, dusting himself once he's up.

"Cas? What the hell happened man?" Dean asks.

The man looks at Dean, confused. "What do you mean?" he asks.

Sam looks at Dean, confusion clear in the little brother's face as he registers the voice that just spoke. Dean's blood runs cold like ice water in veins. This voice is more of a tenor sound with a hint of what would be called a Chicago accent. Not the low gruff bass that the brothers were used to.

 _Not Cas,_ Dean thinks before asking, "Where's Cas?"

The man's eyebrow jumps and his mouth gapes open in recognition. "Cas-You mean Castiel?"

Dean is speechless but Sam responds. "Yes, he asked Dean to meet him here."

Again the man's blue eyes flash in knowing, such a familiar color, but unfamiliar eyes for Dean. "The Winchesters," he says. Sam prods him again for an answer about Castiel. "I'm sorry, I don't know where he is."

It's funny how a simple phrase is sending Dean into a vicious spiral. Sure, the angel was annoying with the way he would get into Dean's personal space, or the way he would stare at Dean as if he was reading his mind, but the minute the angel's vessel - Jimmy Novak - said he didn't know where he was, Dean almost wished he was in Hell again.

The brother's had learned about Jimmy and how Castiel was able to use him as a vessel.

" _He is a devout man. He prayed for this."_

"Do you know why he wanted to meet us?" Sam asks as Cas - _No not Cas,_ Dean chides himself - Jimmy starts on his third burger.

Jimmy shakes his head as he attempts to finish his bite. "I'm sorry, I don't."

"Do you remember anything?" Dean asks.

Jimmy nods. "Bits and pieces," he says with his mouthful. Dean wrinkles his nose finally realizing how gross it looks when he does it and gets a knowing smirk from his brother.

"That's why you knew who we were." Sam offers.

Jimmy nods again and takes a sip from his soda. "Yeah. Castiel had zero control when it came to you two. But when dealing with other affairs, he could control what I saw better."

"So you have no idea what he wanted to talk about or why he was so strung out?" Dean tries again.

Jimmy shakes his head. "I don't. Can I see my family now?"

Sadly that one question sparked a heated debate. The Winchesters knew that as a vessel for an angel, Jimmy was surely to be hunted by both angels and demons alike. While verbally, Dean was agreeing that this was the only reason why they couldn't let Jimmy leave, the silent reasoning was that he was hoping that the pain in the ass angel would come back.

That night, a frustrated Jimmy Novak went to sleep in Sam's bed as he and Dean shared a beer and strategized as to how best to keep the vessel safe.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Sam asked softly as he handed Dean a fresh beer.

"What is?" Dean asked, popping the cap and tossing it towards the trash.

Sam jerks his head in Jimmy's direction. "He looks like Cas, but he's not."

"Just like Ruby, man." Dean retorted before taking a long pull from his beer. He sighed at Sam's questioning look. "Like when we met the bitch, she was blond and a bit taller. Now she's short and," he shrugs, "not blond."

Sam just shook his head. "I guess, it's just weird. Like he has the same facial expressions and what not, but the voice, completely different."

"And the eyes," Dean adds softly.

"What?" Sam asks not hearing Dean clearly.

Dean clears his throat and sit up in his chair. "I said we should get some shut eye."

"Right. I'll take first watch, Dean."

Sam lied, he didn't take first watch. After he knew that Dean was sound asleep, he snuck out of the room to get his fix of demon blood and call Ruby. This allowed Jimmy to sneak out as well and head back to his family.

Dean was pissed when he woke up that morning to find that Jimmy had left. Sam had some lame excuse about getting a soda that he wasn't buying. Why would he wait until Dean to wake up before mentioning that Jimmy was gone? What if he was injured or dead? How were they going to get Castiel back?

"Why are you so pissed? You said angels were dicks." Sam snapped at one point while they were driving towards the home of Jimmy Novak.

"Because it's Cas, Sammy! Sure he might be a dick at times but he's helped us out."

Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Right. Like how he helped when Alistair nearly killed you?"

Dean's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles going white from the force. "Don't."

"Or how about all those times that _we_ prevented the seals from opening and he just shows up like it's nothing."

"Sam," Dean voice holds a warning for his little brother to stop going down the path he is going.

"I don't get it, Dean. The only thing he's ever done that was remotely helpful was bring you back from Hell. It's almost like you have a crush on him or something."

Dean glared at his brother. "I what?!"

"Nothing. Forget I said anything." Sam mumbled, looking out his window letting Dean stew in silence. Sam knew there was something there. The times that he did see Castiel with Dean there was something that he couldn't explain between the two of them. He could see it in the way that they looked at each other, even in the way that Castiel would stand closer than needed. Sam had always brushed it off as the angel not knowing much about human interactions. However, when he thinks back to how Dean reacted when he thought it was Castiel under the rubble at the warehouse and the look on his face when it wasn't the angel but a human named Jimmy, it was hard to ignore.

"It's okay, Dean." Sam said softly, knowing that his next train of thought would question his brother's masculinity. "I mean, if you're attracted to Cas-"

"What the hell, Sammy? I worried about the nerdy little guy, okay? It's not like I want to - Jesus, Sam. Why are you trying to force a chick flick moment?"

"I'm not!" Sam threw his hands up defensively.

This was the exact moment that Anna, the red-headed angel, made an appearance into the back seat. Dean, needed to deflect from the previous conversation, comments on Anna's appearance.

"Now is hardly an appropriate time, Dean," she responds.

She begins to ask the brothers about Jimmy and what he knows. Dean was getting fed up with Anna's lack of concern for Castiel.

"What happened to Cas?" he asks shortly.

"He was dragged back home."

"But that's a good thing right?" he asks.

"No, it's horrible. Terribly, awfully bad. Whatever he did, he must have really pissed someone off."

Dean tuned out the rest of the conversation. All he could get was that she could give two shits about anything else other than knowing what Jimmy knew. When Anna finally left, they were down the street from the quaint little two story house that belonged to The Novaks. Dean wondered briefly if Cas understood what Jimmy had given up for him, something that Dean never thought he could have or need but secretly longed for.

Dean was pulled out of his thoughts when Sam nudged his arm and pointed at the house. A man in his early to mid thirties just entered and a female went running around the side.

"Demons," the brother surmised audibly in unison. Dean let out a heavy sigh and a silent prayer that wherever Castiel was, he would hurry and get his feathery ass down there.

At that same moment in time, Castiel felt and heard Dean's prayer. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do about it as he was being held captive in Heaven. The had captured him shortly after he had dream walked to Dean. He was nervous and anxious to tell Dean the truth, that he remembered their past. He had spent his time pacing the abandoned warehouse, his mind running through every scenario in which Dean would react to the news. Would he be elated? Relieved? Did he already know and that's why we would give Castiel the longing looks? Or worse, would Dean be angry? After all, Castiel was in a male vessel this time around and who was to say that Dean was even into that.

Castiel had been so immersed into his own thoughts that he never heard Esper and Ion coming. It wasn't until we was awake in the too bright room did he notice something was off.

He had a feeling as if he had been here before. Something about the bright white wall, furniture, carpet, even the harsh light of the fluorescents, sent warnings signals throughout his body. Little tingles, pulses and pops. As his eyes adjust to the brash intrusion he begins to feel his form again. His vessel is gone. Which tells him he was cast out, but how? Jimmy Novak wouldn't have done that. He was accepting of Castiel's grace. Eager, even, to be chosen as a vessel for the angel.

It's when Castiel can't move, that he realizes that he was cast out by another angel. He tries to move his head, desperate to see who has him bound, but he cannot. With each move of his head, there is a tinge of pain, almost as burning sensation.

"There's no use in fighting, Castiel." a female voice says from beside him. "I'll reprogram you as many times as needed until you learn your proper place." The body of the voice steps into his line of sight.

"Naomi," he spits through clenched teeth.

She smiles and smooths out the sides of her charcoal gray pant suit. "I decided to leave those memories so that you will remember who I am to you."

"My torturer?"

Naomi laughs. "Oh, Castiel! Uriel would be so proud to see the sense of humor on you. He always felt you were wound up too tightly." She walks over to her desk and leans against. Folding her arms over her breasts as she looks him over.

"I must say, Castiel, regardless of what you think you know. I truly do not enjoy having you in this chair."

"Then let me go."

She clicks her tongue in disapproval. "I wish I could. But you see, you've been compromised. Led astray. Blinded by emotions your have no right or authorization to feel."

"I have every right!" Castiel fights against his bindings.

Naomi lets out a dark chuckle. "Do you? You think that because you helped the Winchesters avoid the apocalypse you have some right to free will? Isn't that was Dean calls your little trio? _Team Free Will_?" She pauses only briefly as if she expected Castiel to react but instead he clenches his teeth, allowing for her to get on with it.

"Here's the thing, Castiel. You are an angel. You are not Dean Winchester's errand boy. You will only respond to what I tell you to do and you will only report to me. We may not need your precious Dean at the moment, but he seems like he wants to feel important, so we'll play along. For now."

"What do you want me to do?" Castiel asks.

"Simple. Play along. Make Dean think you need him to treat you like his little lost puppy. But keep your eyes and ears open, Castiel. Things are happening and I need you to be here when I call." She moves closer, her hands reach to somewhere Castiel can not see, but the pressure along his temple increases, sending blinding white spots across his vision.

"I just need to remove one more thing…" she trails off just as an image of Dean and Castiel from Dean's childhood floats to the forefront his mind. Slowly memories of their time together starts to rip from him. The pain is worse than being disintegrated by a snap Lucifer's fingers. Castiel is crying out for Naomi to stop. The vernacular that reaches his ears is not that of the familiar and comforting English spoken with Winchesters but that the angels. He can feel his grace wet with tears as the final memory his brother blessedly gave back begins to fade.

 _"_ _I love you, Cas."_ A whisper from a much younger Dean is now gone.

Castiel feels the pressure release from his visage and moves his head to look at Naomi. She looks at him and cradles his face.

"Now do as you're told."


End file.
